Tommy Santana - War Lyrics

Aye
Yeah

With the chopsticks, we pull up, we call war on this bitch
Five rounds on his head, and he ain't even get no stitch
All them niggas that be dissing me they see something and snitch
They be playing, acting dumb, until they see who in the ditch

Niggas think they sweet, make em lollipop red
F*ck boy, please don't test me, get a bullet in yo head
While you tripping, hoes be slipping, they all wanna be in bed
I stop playing, pull the choppa, and I shoot their niggas dead

40 bands on the fit, you know I gotta cash it out
I don't even say a word and she still put it in her mouth
I don't even knew her name, but she still blew me like a flute
Gotta stick the strap on me, yeah we go hard we from the south

Yeah, we pull up with the choppa on me
They be talking, got that AK and I put it on repeat
In the streets with the bro's we gonna make them niggas bleed
Pull the trigger, In the morning all these streets ain't gonna be neat

Aye
Yeah
It ain't gonna be neat