A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

C-Bo

"Thug Lordz"

[C-Bo]
C'mon n*ggas
Yeah
The Thug Lordz in this b*tch
Get up... salute n*gga, 21 salute n*gga holla..
THUG... LORDZ!
n*ggas that ride or die for their coast, n*gga
Yeah, put ya head to the street
Put ya head to the street n*gga, holla...holla
THUG... LORDZ!
Thug Lordz in this b*tch
Regime n*ggas
West Coast Mafia n*ggas
Yeah, untouchable n*ggas man
C'mon n*ggas, C'mon n*ggas. Ha

[Verse 1: C-Bo]
Check, my Uzi weigh a ton I hits 'em up an I run
I'm loco, I keep a guns caulked in the lo-lo
I'm King Tut of the hood
Cuz everytime I drop a record dog
sh*t I bring it to the gut of the hood
An I ain't never backed down, so don't test me dog
Cause I'm a nut, an keep a Smith & Wesson pressed in pause
All these faggot ass rappers keep yappin they jaws
Yeah they the sh*t cuz when they see me they just crap in they drawers
Yeah that n*gga 50 he hot, but I heard he's a snitch
And he ran up under that white boy, I heard he's a b*tch
An I ain't seen him in the hood, no where in the Valley
No House of Blues, or Peanuts, he scared of them alleys
Heard he copped his rims and Big O Tires in the hood
Surrounded by police, wearin wires in the hood
Heard they ran him outta New York, and he's comin to Cali
No Glocks and Sigs, just lots of pigs
Eh nig, your rap career will not outlast Pac and Big's
Yeah you f*ckin wit some kids that ain't scared of the bricks
You in there, four-fifth kick dead in the bricks
Thug Lordz'll have ya hit, split dead in a 6, c'mon

[Chorus: C-Bo]
THUG... LORDZ!
Gettin this money like a motherf*cker ready for war
We'll never snitch
Never flip
Never quit my click was heaven sent wit Mac-11's to
Hit when we dip they holla..
THUG... LORDZ!
Gettin this money like a motherf*cker ready for war
We'll never snitch
Never flip
Never quit my click was heaven sent wit Mac-11's to
Hit when we dip they holla..

[Verse 2: Yukmouth]
Yeah..
If the boss wants you dead, then it's off wit ya head
'specially a b*tch n*gga that talk to the feds
'specially a b*tch n*gga that walk wit the feds
To award shows cause n*ggas bout to toss him some lead
You n*ggas think the West coast is just Dre an Xzibit
They aiight, but pay attention Thug Lordz handle they business
We the realest from the Gardens to the Village
Make the hardest n*ggas feel this
Make the Sergeant want to kill us
Regardless Godzilla will murda you n*gga
I twist ya cap like a Schlitz malt liquor for that slick talk n*gga
If ya n*gga gang bang, don't crip walk n*gga
Wearin a big chain will get ya ripped off quicka
We the only Thug Lordz b*tch
After all big faces like Mount Rushmore, you don't want war b*tch
That'll get you pistol whipped an extorted
You lucky I wasn't on Face sh*t, I woulda destroyed it
You better run like Forrest Gump in Air Forces
Cause our guns look like torches, bustin from drop Porsches
Or the drop Ferrari, hotter than a hot tamale
The T-H-U-G-L-O-R-D'z holla..

[Chorus]
THUG LORDZ!
Gettin this money like a motherf*cker ready for war
We'll never snitch
Never flip
Never quit my click was heaven sent wit Mac-11's to
Hit when we dip they holla..
THUG LORDZ!
Gettin this money like a motherf*cker ready for war
We'll never snitch
Never flip
Never quit my click was heaven sent wit Mac-11's to
Hit when we dip they holla (they holla)

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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