[Hook x2]
Round here, there's nothing but thug niggas
Down here, nothing but hard heads
Round here, nothing but straight killas down here
And if you really wanna know
[Magic]
I'm from the city of the wickedest, cut throat connivers
We keeps it gutter, till the day that we die
We roam the streets at dark, all we got to survive
Is our hands and our heart, our balls and our word
Just for sitting in my hood, I be screaming until I'm horse
You ever touch one of mine, I'm coming for you and yours
If you ain't got to jack in the murder, you ain't shit
When you hear the blacka-blacka, you know somebody got hit
Hope it ain't none of mine, and if it's mine
I be coming to get you die trying, survival of the fittest
We the sickest no disrespect, but these boys got heart
It could be the dope, but these boys play the part
Murder capital, just a couple years back
In my city, itching to put us right back on the map
When you hear the click-clack, you know it's time to smash
Playa in chest-tolic, catch a bullet in the ass
[Hook x2]
[Magic]
I still hustled the block, I keep on cock the 17 shots
I'm a 9th Ward nigga, so I can't be stopped
Fill a X fill a boy, whatever get us high
With money on my mind, so somebody bound to die
Be careful what you say, cause if my people feel played
You bound to get sprayed, hole in your fade
I'm in between your braids, we love cracking domes
We love car jacking, and breaking in people homes
Love concealing weapons, illegal firearms
I'm a felon, ain't no papers on this pistol in my palm
Suicidal, murder mo' common than crawfish
Nigga die, we second line ain't that a (bi-ay-itch)
Nigga got your number, no need to wonder
Who put, lil' whodi under
Crooked ass police force, them the biggest dope dealers
New Orleans made us killas my nigga, you got to feel us
[Hook x2]
This for my thug and thugettes, niggas in the ghet's
Throw up your hood nigga, represent your set
[Hook x2]
[talking]
Look come on, come on, keep it real
No other nigga gon thug like me
Tear up a club like me, whack a nigga for free
Beat down the police, spit in the judge face
Slap a mo'f*cker if he get out of place
Down here, what
Down Here Video (MV)
Performed By: Magic!
Written by: MALCOLM ROY TREECE, MARTIN RICHARD GILKS, MILES STEPHEN HUNT, ROBERT JONES
Magic! - Down Here Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
[Hook x2]
Round here, there's nothing but thug niggas
Down here, nothing but hard heads
Round here, nothing but straight killas down here
And if you really wanna know
[Magic]
I'm from the city of the wickedest, cut throat connivers
We keeps it gutter, till the day that we die
We roam the streets at dark, all we got to survive
Is our hands and our heart, our balls and our word
Just for sitting in my hood, I be screaming until I'm horse
You ever touch one of mine, I'm coming for you and yours
If you ain't got to jack in the murder, you ain't shit
When you hear the blacka-blacka, you know somebody got hit
Hope it ain't none of mine, and if it's mine
I be coming to get you die trying, survival of the fittest
We the sickest no disrespect, but these boys got heart
It could be the dope, but these boys play the part
Murder capital, just a couple years back
In my city, itching to put us right back on the map
When you hear the click-clack, you know it's time to smash
Playa in chest-tolic, catch a bullet in the ass
[Hook x2]
[Magic]
I still hustled the block, I keep on cock the 17 shots
I'm a 9th Ward nigga, so I can't be stopped
Fill a X fill a boy, whatever get us high
With money on my mind, so somebody bound to die
Be careful what you say, cause if my people feel played
You bound to get sprayed, hole in your fade
I'm in between your braids, we love cracking domes
We love car jacking, and breaking in people homes
Love concealing weapons, illegal firearms
I'm a felon, ain't no papers on this pistol in my palm
Suicidal, murder mo' common than crawfish
Nigga die, we second line ain't that a (bi-ay-itch)
Nigga got your number, no need to wonder
Who put, lil' whodi under
Crooked ass police force, them the biggest dope dealers
New Orleans made us killas my nigga, you got to feel us
[Hook x2]
This for my thug and thugettes, niggas in the ghet's
Throw up your hood nigga, represent your set
[Hook x2]
[talking]
Look come on, come on, keep it real
No other nigga gon thug like me
Tear up a club like me, whack a nigga for free
Beat down the police, spit in the judge face
Slap a mo'f*cker if he get out of place
Down here, what
Round here, there's nothing but thug niggas
Down here, nothing but hard heads
Round here, nothing but straight killas down here
And if you really wanna know
[Magic]
I'm from the city of the wickedest, cut throat connivers
We keeps it gutter, till the day that we die
We roam the streets at dark, all we got to survive
Is our hands and our heart, our balls and our word
Just for sitting in my hood, I be screaming until I'm horse
You ever touch one of mine, I'm coming for you and yours
If you ain't got to jack in the murder, you ain't shit
When you hear the blacka-blacka, you know somebody got hit
Hope it ain't none of mine, and if it's mine
I be coming to get you die trying, survival of the fittest
We the sickest no disrespect, but these boys got heart
It could be the dope, but these boys play the part
Murder capital, just a couple years back
In my city, itching to put us right back on the map
When you hear the click-clack, you know it's time to smash
Playa in chest-tolic, catch a bullet in the ass
[Hook x2]
[Magic]
I still hustled the block, I keep on cock the 17 shots
I'm a 9th Ward nigga, so I can't be stopped
Fill a X fill a boy, whatever get us high
With money on my mind, so somebody bound to die
Be careful what you say, cause if my people feel played
You bound to get sprayed, hole in your fade
I'm in between your braids, we love cracking domes
We love car jacking, and breaking in people homes
Love concealing weapons, illegal firearms
I'm a felon, ain't no papers on this pistol in my palm
Suicidal, murder mo' common than crawfish
Nigga die, we second line ain't that a (bi-ay-itch)
Nigga got your number, no need to wonder
Who put, lil' whodi under
Crooked ass police force, them the biggest dope dealers
New Orleans made us killas my nigga, you got to feel us
[Hook x2]
This for my thug and thugettes, niggas in the ghet's
Throw up your hood nigga, represent your set
[Hook x2]
[talking]
Look come on, come on, keep it real
No other nigga gon thug like me
Tear up a club like me, whack a nigga for free
Beat down the police, spit in the judge face
Slap a mo'f*cker if he get out of place
Down here, what
Writer: MALCOLM ROY TREECE, MARTIN RICHARD GILKS, MILES STEPHEN HUNT, ROBERT JONES
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group