That shit be loud
Niggas on the track
Hold on, why they f*cking keep thinking that I'm sweet
Like, niggas ain't grow up in the streets
Like, niggas ain't packing a lot of heat
Bro, you might be dead before a f*cking week
I could put 500 on your head
My niggas a kill you for a couple of pills
And we do this shit for real, so I advise you to watch your mouth
Yeah, boy, license to kill
Pass the Mac, pass the cognac
Hit a lick, then get right back
To the jugghouse, with the straps
We gotta disattach and bury that
Bro, I ain't got a license to carry
But, on some real shit between me and you, I got a license to bury
And if you come at me, nigga, it's either you or I
And one of us, at the end of the road, gots to die
One of us gots to cry
No, I ain't crying, and I ain't coming to your funeral
Only way that I'm coming to your funeral if you got your man's attached
So when they come to see you, R.I.P., I'ma light your shit up
F*ck that, nigga, R.I.P
Put you on the back of a T-shirt, or I put your little, your kids on the back of a milk carton
Don't f*ck with me
I'll get you so f*cking on, you be like, yo, let me get some milk because you trying to come back
You high as shit
He ain't coming back
He got hit with the gat
He got hit with the Ruger, with the .50 attached that nigga dead
We might go f*cking get his kids
But man, should we get the baby out the crib
Nah, we going to leave him right there, cause he ain't got shit to do with it, man
I'ma let him live
Because I love kids, they my f*cking heart
But if you bark, nigga, you better be able to spark
Yeah, nigga, I'm also like Scarface
I shoot you and your wife the f*ck up
But I ain't shooting no kids at the beginning and the end of the day
Cause At the time, you was in the way
I ain't shooting no kids, no kids involved
But if I get into a shootout and they outside, it is what it is, nigga
Innocent bystanders, yeah, they can get it, too
And just like you heard before, nigga, nosy niggas get it, too
F*ck you mean I get it, too
If I got to go in, if you f*ck with me or my family, my blood, or one of my friends
And it's the motherf*cker World War Three on me
And once I say go in, we all going in on three
On three, nigga, mutherfuka on one
And we got like two f*cking guns so
On each of us, you don't want no piece of us
Leave your bitch ass in the dust
Eat you up, the pizza nigga you the crust
Ya dusty ass man, you need some money, you to come up
Come holla at us
We got some bucks, you know what up
And if you crazy, we leave you in the pickup truck, nigga
Hit you with the neck up
Get your respect up, nigga, and get your checks up
F*ck around, get wet up
Don't f*ck with my team
Get your ass set up...........BANG
Khalifthe1st - No Heart Freestyle (feat. Chesse) Lyrics
Khalifthe1st - No Heart Freestyle (feat. Chesse) Lyrics
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
English
That shit be loud
Niggas on the track
Hold on, why they f*cking keep thinking that I'm sweet
Like, niggas ain't grow up in the streets
Like, niggas ain't packing a lot of heat
Bro, you might be dead before a f*cking week
I could put 500 on your head
My niggas a kill you for a couple of pills
And we do this shit for real, so I advise you to watch your mouth
Yeah, boy, license to kill
Pass the Mac, pass the cognac
Hit a lick, then get right back
To the jugghouse, with the straps
We gotta disattach and bury that
Bro, I ain't got a license to carry
But, on some real shit between me and you, I got a license to bury
And if you come at me, nigga, it's either you or I
And one of us, at the end of the road, gots to die
One of us gots to cry
No, I ain't crying, and I ain't coming to your funeral
Only way that I'm coming to your funeral if you got your man's attached
So when they come to see you, R.I.P., I'ma light your shit up
F*ck that, nigga, R.I.P
Put you on the back of a T-shirt, or I put your little, your kids on the back of a milk carton
Don't f*ck with me
I'll get you so f*cking on, you be like, yo, let me get some milk because you trying to come back
You high as shit
He ain't coming back
He got hit with the gat
He got hit with the Ruger, with the .50 attached that nigga dead
We might go f*cking get his kids
But man, should we get the baby out the crib
Nah, we going to leave him right there, cause he ain't got shit to do with it, man
I'ma let him live
Because I love kids, they my f*cking heart
But if you bark, nigga, you better be able to spark
Yeah, nigga, I'm also like Scarface
I shoot you and your wife the f*ck up
But I ain't shooting no kids at the beginning and the end of the day
Cause At the time, you was in the way
I ain't shooting no kids, no kids involved
But if I get into a shootout and they outside, it is what it is, nigga
Innocent bystanders, yeah, they can get it, too
And just like you heard before, nigga, nosy niggas get it, too
F*ck you mean I get it, too
If I got to go in, if you f*ck with me or my family, my blood, or one of my friends
And it's the motherf*cker World War Three on me
And once I say go in, we all going in on three
On three, nigga, mutherfuka on one
And we got like two f*cking guns so
On each of us, you don't want no piece of us
Leave your bitch ass in the dust
Eat you up, the pizza nigga you the crust
Ya dusty ass man, you need some money, you to come up
Come holla at us
We got some bucks, you know what up
And if you crazy, we leave you in the pickup truck, nigga
Hit you with the neck up
Get your respect up, nigga, and get your checks up
F*ck around, get wet up
Don't f*ck with my team
Get your ass set up...........BANG
Niggas on the track
Hold on, why they f*cking keep thinking that I'm sweet
Like, niggas ain't grow up in the streets
Like, niggas ain't packing a lot of heat
Bro, you might be dead before a f*cking week
I could put 500 on your head
My niggas a kill you for a couple of pills
And we do this shit for real, so I advise you to watch your mouth
Yeah, boy, license to kill
Pass the Mac, pass the cognac
Hit a lick, then get right back
To the jugghouse, with the straps
We gotta disattach and bury that
Bro, I ain't got a license to carry
But, on some real shit between me and you, I got a license to bury
And if you come at me, nigga, it's either you or I
And one of us, at the end of the road, gots to die
One of us gots to cry
No, I ain't crying, and I ain't coming to your funeral
Only way that I'm coming to your funeral if you got your man's attached
So when they come to see you, R.I.P., I'ma light your shit up
F*ck that, nigga, R.I.P
Put you on the back of a T-shirt, or I put your little, your kids on the back of a milk carton
Don't f*ck with me
I'll get you so f*cking on, you be like, yo, let me get some milk because you trying to come back
You high as shit
He ain't coming back
He got hit with the gat
He got hit with the Ruger, with the .50 attached that nigga dead
We might go f*cking get his kids
But man, should we get the baby out the crib
Nah, we going to leave him right there, cause he ain't got shit to do with it, man
I'ma let him live
Because I love kids, they my f*cking heart
But if you bark, nigga, you better be able to spark
Yeah, nigga, I'm also like Scarface
I shoot you and your wife the f*ck up
But I ain't shooting no kids at the beginning and the end of the day
Cause At the time, you was in the way
I ain't shooting no kids, no kids involved
But if I get into a shootout and they outside, it is what it is, nigga
Innocent bystanders, yeah, they can get it, too
And just like you heard before, nigga, nosy niggas get it, too
F*ck you mean I get it, too
If I got to go in, if you f*ck with me or my family, my blood, or one of my friends
And it's the motherf*cker World War Three on me
And once I say go in, we all going in on three
On three, nigga, mutherfuka on one
And we got like two f*cking guns so
On each of us, you don't want no piece of us
Leave your bitch ass in the dust
Eat you up, the pizza nigga you the crust
Ya dusty ass man, you need some money, you to come up
Come holla at us
We got some bucks, you know what up
And if you crazy, we leave you in the pickup truck, nigga
Hit you with the neck up
Get your respect up, nigga, and get your checks up
F*ck around, get wet up
Don't f*ck with my team
Get your ass set up...........BANG
Writer: Khalif Moore, Marcus Dickens
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid