AP. 9 - Some Other sh** lyrics

West Coast Mafia 100 percent Mob Figgaz n' real n***as We M-O-B L-I-F-E My n***a ap9 Bgeezy Food Free k**a Tay trick [k**a Tay] I never hearda these fools I'm quick to murder these fools Dude if you hop off on this gangsta sh** Study the rules Or get bloody and bruised Tied up jacked and kidnapped My fo thugs wit no love savagely raising big straps We git em Lloyd Trigga finga itchy like the hemmroids Snap you like a poloriod Somebody better hol'ja boy Flawless like Roy Jones Destroy bones on contact Life ain't sh** Witout some p**y and a bomb sack Million Dollar contracts Comin' and goin' But y'all ain't knowin' Bank account swollen Picture me rollin' In the Escalade High starin d**h in the face Heart fulla hate Puttin work in but ain't catchin no case I got my game tight Cuz big homey, laced me as a young G Hungry for my chedda cheeze Pushin OZ's Make a profit hoes Gots to got my name in they mouth They bumpin guns and smokin murda blunts When the guns come out They poppin' please don't shoot But ain't no git back when the sh** crack Murda man like Al Capone Bust him wit the big gat Hit him high Feel the ride Ain't givin a f** about Genocide When this song is on I gotta ride for mine When the war pop off n***as die Like fay days k** em all from the OG's to the Bebe's When the gun blaze Like sun rays Doin drive by's on the run ways Feds tryin to hunt Tay down In every town From Philly to Compton they investigatin My stomach rounds [Hook] 2x All my n***as smuggle sh** I'm on some otha sh** Like f**in' over the government My ghetto politic thug n***as lovin this Leavin u open like a hollow tip Inside ya n***a Swollow this Hollow Hollow [AP-9] I don't give a sh** Still lettin off clips Gimme the mike and let me touch some sh** 'till I love I get a headrush When the lead go bust Kickin up dust Man that's a must Sometimes on the mike I cuss Kickin up dust on the mike I buss I know my people's know who really run Smokin' up on a Philly Blunt Slappin' a s**a wit a gun Crushin' up sh** just like Big Pun North to the East South to the West I most confess I gotta get a piece Betta yet a ho can't settle for less I don't discriminate Every fake n***a perpetrate Concentrate on makin' papes Shakin' fakes in the month of gate Keepin' em as I contemplate These high stakes wit a runnin' mate Takin' it to another climate For those that ever try to draw me Rent em off to Bombay Feelin my way f** you in the hallway My rhyme pays 'Sides Bombay My Do or Die day n***a Livin it up Im givin' it up For my n***as that been tearin sh** up n***a What [Hook] 2x [AP-9] I been doin this sh** since '89 They still hatin' on debatin' on tryin' to play P-9 I see fakers on then its on Wanna spray P-9? All around my neck strapped tough flee For the n***as that wanna touch me Tryin' to f** me Wit' no vasoline I get the gasoline For n***as that's after me 5 G's is what I need on the M-I-C Half a that before I breathe on n***as like you get peed on So speed on And be gone To the cut with your fleet on Or all of your teeth gone Missin No description until we bust And you didn't listen Rollin' wit the funk I think I bust cuz im thug livin' Never give in Nothin' But takin' the bacon wit no mistakin' I got some k**as On the pay roll In day low When it's time to handle business Never miss it n***a lay low [Hook] 2x Fades out