People's Court Songtext

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People's Court Songtext
1st verse Yeah! Ah huh! Yo yo! I gives a fuck if you traumed up Don Perignoned up niggas from where want what one slip and get ya cherry balmed up I got every arm and my niggas homicide and deadly come to ya gut B! Guess ya done blon luck fucked wit the wrong one Shawn Gun harm one two fuck y'all won do Bastards niggas know I blast quick as if y'all had to ask, shit, get ya ass twist it's the rap's El Nino, get ya brain splitted and I don't like pussy well enough, to hang wit it, you ain't wit it same shit-it can't fuck wit the lame wit-itch soon as the slang spitted if you came, you get it plain as the game, wit the pens witted on cosine, and the whole nine leave you where I find yo ass... lost wit no sign, y'all so wrong I'm the last nigga to roll on, got the vest on wit the pose on when you guess wrong I'm a press on, motherfucker! Chorus- Fuck the Judge Fuck the Jury when ya warring wit me It's peoples court we hold court in the street I gives a fuck about the D.A. when ya see Jay betta crawl for yo heat it's peoples court we hold court in the street Ya Heard Me! Fuck the judge Fuck the Jury when ya warring wit me It's peoples court we hold court in the street I gives a shit about ya play disc nigga dangerous watch ya language wit me It's peoples court we hold court in the street. 2nd verse I gives a shit if it's small claims, like stealing ya bitch or if it's Supreme Court like stealing ya bricks look, my guns is all range more pain, end it ran to whether you big money or small change when I cock it ball guage my pis-tals never miss trials here;s the daterrain wit no chance of parole bullets coming concurrent I'm like why nigga try Jigga you must remember it's like being on trial for your life wit a public defender let the jury fill the seats up ans start the court calendar off wit jocket number nine-millimeter all rise, the honorable Jay-Z presides instead of a mallet, I hold a tool all upjections overruled stay deep in ya arguments hope you understand it, two guns, right over left that's how I crossexam like Tom Cruise poppin' wit the Top Gun, you lose Jigga no lie and y'all can't handle the truth! Chorus 3rd verse No flow sicker No cell could hold Jigga since I drop these tripled out, no coke kitchen victors no contest in a rhyme fest I'm best under oath, raise my right hand and I spit it honest know ya facts foreal 'fo ya decide to act ill when you blow trial ain't no coming back on appeal it's murderone bail set at, a half-a-mil it's murderone for you raples motherfucker's red done, commit hate crimes fake rhymes, I hold in contempt you get state time for faking like you greater than him so foulplay, thats ya charges pay ya fine at the desk sergant say sorry, and take ya property I be sure to bend it flow splendid no coke defendant while you niggas hold trial wit no motions in it three-time felon third album locking it down for the term of Lifetime, Volume 2 nigga, court is ajourned!