Lil' Flip

Art Of War
(feat. Z-Ro) [Hook - 2x] You know my niggaz riding, I hope you niggaz hiding You know my niggaz riding, I hope you niggaz hiding You know my niggaz riding, I hope you niggaz hiding Cause it's the art of war, when our crews colliding [Lil' Flip] You see the pain in my eyes, bitch I ain't never scared Lighting a flame, I'm smoking my Jane anywhere A lot of niggaz, trying to go against Gangus Khan Ever since March 27th, I ain't forgetting to bring my gun I took one, and I ain't trying to take no mo' So befo' you get at me, I'ma get you hoe I keep a lot of do', I'm living like the Godfather And I just bought three karats, for my god-daughter Christian D'ore for my chicks, this rapping shit made me rich I smell like Kurt when I pitch, nigga you get it homie I be in Orange Mound, drinking yellow drank nigga I might be with Quetpuff, and green dank nigga You know we getting chedda, like them Get It Boyz Any rapper step to me, he will get destroyed Cause, I'm the Marvin Gaye of my time And if you so hot, why your video ain't retired bitch Songtexte[Hook - 2x] [Lil' Flip] Me and Z-Ro the Kings, you better do your math And this shit I'm spitting bitch, I ain't use a pad I might bruise you bad, just to move your ass Come down to Texas, and I bet the crowd boo your ass Atlantic got you gassed nigga, you ain't hotter than Twista Jail don't make you a gangsta, and neither do a pistol Hood beef is hood beef, we 'spose to keep it in the hood This nigga ain't from Houston Texas, why y'all make him look good I can tell he ain't real, cause when the cameras come on He gotta put his grill in, and pat his make-up on Huh no homos we got 4-4's, fo' Hummers sitting on Mo-Mo's In the lab, me and Tow Down stay blowing dro We ride around in them drops, sixteen switches it hop Now stop, I know you looking at my watch whoo Now it's time for me, to end this verse Because I'm tired nigga, since I'm the boss than you fired nigga [Hook - 2x] [Z-Ro] Y'all know my niggaz riding on the frontline none of my niggaz hiding Gliding on 22 inches when I'm riding custom made jewelry from Johnny got me blinding Hold up my nigga you don't wanna run up that's when the Mo City militia hold they guns up Fuck around and stab a nigga like my name Young Buck yeah I know you cats think to figga wanna fuck up See me running round on my big ass rims black top blue jeans and black and brown Tim's Cream as the seas big guns under them Ridgemont hardheads y'all don't want none of them And not a boss nigga in my hood can't leave fuck around and make it when a sucker can't breathe Ridgevan is all which y'all fellas can't bleed that block, will get you bitches D-E-A-D These days on the topic is the barber shop like if they ain't talk about me they hard to stop But I'm a real nigga plus I like to squab a lot made niggaz go to Herman and then talk a lot Give a fuck if a nigga wanna squab or not could pay your job for an Antonio Tarver shot Wanna pistol play with me better bar they lot just wanna pull up in them unmarked cars a lot Finna punish everybody on your block right now bitch niggaz try to make it out of sight right now Bout to be acquainted with the bright light right now bro you think you got hands we could fight right now It's the King of the Ghetto and them Clover G'z late night at the studio blowing trees About to jump in the pick-up and let the guns sick 'em when they find your ass we gon be overseas [Hook - 2x] Aus Songtexte Mania