A Little Western Town Called Beverly Hills

歌詞

(*talking*) Man, this motherfucking underground shit Ain't ready for S.L.A.B. baby, we in here It's that nigga Rick D baby, I'm in here with Trae Guerrilla Maab, and the Girt mayn Shitting on the spit mayn, it's going down 2003 (Hook) Hey get down, lay down Cause we got what it takes, to make you cakes and all you bricks Lay down, hate now It's Girt Boys, S.L.A.B. and Trae, you know we gotta represent H-Town, whoa now Don't beef with the team, we mean what we say so Bitch slow down, whoa now Nigga we'll put it in your face, get it straight (Poppy) We Guerillas, you niggaz is chimps And we too tall, to deal with you shrimps By the way I'm a playa, boo-wow when I fill you with shrimp Respect my gangsta chick, cause you dealing with pimps Hey I'm straying off of the subject, if you don't feel S.L.A.B The Mack'll have you feeling Trae, off of your stomach That's Trae from the Tre pound, off of your stomach We go platinum, I'm hitting Trae out for the hundreds Some of you hate, to see us niggaz get paid And that's probably why we got bad blood, like niggaz with AIDS This game ain't sweet, but y'all got licorice ways The truth hurt, you don't want me to finish this phrase do you (Unique) Aw naw, Trae up in this bitch And tear the walls down, I thought I told you befo' Hey back down, 'fore a nigga Mack drown You in a pool of blood, and let me tell you something else Mack rounds, leave a nigga back down On the ground, cause he choose to thug That popcorn shit, bout to drown out Call me ringmaster, cause I'm calling clowns out On some pimp shit, smacking you sluts On some square shit, snatching your nuts And boys better, get it right 'Fore I hit em right, in they fitted right Between the letters, put it on your mind you get it right Say, let me slow it down So you can keep up, Unique I hold it down Like Will and C-Note You niggaz can't tell me, you don't feel what we quote U-nique, bastard child Ignorant slow swagger, nasty smile Grit Boys, ain't no concern what you bragging bout Like MLK on Sunday, nigga slabbed out (Trae) I do' ran up on a nigga, and spit it sick on all you faking niggaz Hell-i-fied when I click on niggaz, that be on my dick ass niggaz I'm telling you I'm a lunatic, but my name ain't Nelly I be the one, to hit the block and let off five in your belly One deep and swanging a Chevy, Slow Loud And Bangin' I'm packing Bad ain't to know niggaz stacking, them niggaz need to quit rapping Haven't you heard of my team, with a red beam And it's cocked, with a four pound that I'm packing I make a heavyweighter drop stop and roll, trying to get away from the Maab Niggaz tripping, they think I'm slicking they ass out of a job And I know I'm too hard, so you niggaz finna see I'm a nigga with attitude, that these haters don't wanna meet (Hook) (Scooby) Fuck you, and the rest that hate Grit Boys rep the H, got heat that'll melt your face You must got breath, to waste Fuck that shit, my niggaz trying to get some cake Hey, Girt Boys came to win Got the rap game, caving in Nigga I ain't your friend, Scoob don't know y'all niggaz So, he let the chamber spin Then, get back to my do' Get stacks from my hoe, bitch crack on the low I'm telling y'all niggaz Any chit-chat, guns'll blow whoa Oh, can't forget B and Trae Y'all niggaz don't need to play, might just bleed today The Maab in this bitch, so drop to your knees and pray (Archie) We know, none of y'all niggaz want it with Arch' I'll have the paramedics screaming, that they losing your heartbeat Cause damn, I've been waiting a long time To show you cock sucker motherfuckers, I work with this chrome nine And fuck who you came with, cause all y'all faking You need to peep game, and realize what y'all facing I keep them hogs waiting, for any altercation I let the bullets rush through your team, like Walter Payton I get it done right, nigga MJ style I'll give you 42 shots, in one night And yeah I let the Mach spit, and make you Bitch niggaz back down for fucking with Arch, S.L.A.B. and Grit bitch (Lil B) You boys better move around, back-back 'Fore I grab the black gat, busting shots that'll make your blood splat Feel that Grit, S.L.A.B. and my kin folk Trae Shooting game to you busters, we hustles for pay day Gotta get it come back with it, it don't quit Lay you down, 'fore you fuck around and get your wig split Young Guerillas that's after scrilla, haters you gotta love it Push and shove it, you think I'm bluffing big trucks I'm dubbing Plus fo' still known, to tack a hater toe Representing H-Town, whenever you hear me flow Lil B, also known as By-Bo Get out of line, I'll be busting like a crooked po-po Fa sho a nigga gleam, better yet a nigga shine Bled blocks for stocks, on the corners of Grape Vine When you see a nigga, chunk a deuce or move around Third Coast finest, making you chumps lay it down (Jay'Ton) Make way for the Jay'Ton, he next to bat With a gat and a pack, that'll heat up your back Do my dirt and burn off, you wankstas getting tossed Swanging the boulevard, till the laws getting lost Hit the block and set up shop, for fiends that need rocks Just quick it if you wanna, then I'm knocking your ass off Like Lennox Lewis, candy blue on the Buick If it's fast then I Screw it, I gotta stay true to it It's the S-L-A-B, I got it tatted on my arm 15's be beating, like I be busting at Sadaam 17 years old, a gangsta I know If a nigga out of line, I'm wrecking him like a flow