Junkies Can’t Get None lyrics

[Intro]
Junkie's can't get none, junkie's can't get none
Here come that junkie-ass shawty n*gga now
What's up, buggin', mane?
What y'all up to, mane?
You know whats up, n*gga
n*gga, what you mean what's up, n*gga?
b*tch-boy, you know
What? I know what?
Where my money? That's what
Mane, I don't owe y'all n*ggas sh*t
We finna run your ass 'cross Hollywood now, boy (Mane, my pistol will be checkin' your motherf*ckin' ass, n*gga)
Ho-ass boy
Wha-what-what's up then? (b*tch)

[Verse 1: Kingpin Skinny Pimp]
Back in school, n*ggas used to scrap with brass knuckles, but now they buckin' these n*ggas down, ain't no busters in my town
n*ggas used to jack by catchin' a n*gga walkin' by himself
Once he see that brick he said, mane, y'all can have the sh*t
Take his ends, go and buy some skunk, go get real drunk
By '94 we snortin' that funk and lockin' b*tches in the trunk
One day I seen this young n*gga whoopin' on this junkie n*gga
He wore number twelve, dog, made that big ass n*gga fall
I was trippin' 'cause this sprung n*gga took his belt off
The young n*gga ran behind the tree and broke out with a sawed-off
Look at them, they aren't barin' that sh*t, they growin' up fast, damn near eight
By the time if he turn twenty, if he make it, he'll be in his grave
Mama's can't control they kids, God's cuttin' they time short
They don't know nothin' 'bout a church, they just know how to use they yalk
Every time a problem come up (Mane, let's blast this sucker)
n*ggas they f*ck up and wind up in jail (Goddamn)
You ain't nothin' but a
[Chorus: Kingpin Skinny Pimp, RBX, [?] & 8Ball]
Ghetto ass n*gga from a ghetto—
Back in the-back in the days, n*ggas, they used to scrap
Fools get beat down, fools get beat down
Suckers's can't-suckers's can't get none
Suckers's can't get none
Ghetto ass n*gga from a ghetto—
Back in the-back in the days, n*ggas, they used to scrap
Fools get beat down, fools get beat down
Suckers's can't-suckers's can't get none
Suckers's can't get none

[Verse 2: Kingpin Skinny Pimp]
Rollin', smokin' on some hay, I was so damn blinked out
I hit this n*gga ride by mistake, so now he's jumpin' out
Like he wanna swing at me, so I smacked the sh*t outta him
Even though I'm strapped, mane, I'd just rather whoop 'em down (Whats up, boy?)
So I took the clip out, gripped my thang, and smacked 'em in his mouth
Then we deeper than a ocean, all my road dogs jumpin' out, knottin' up that boy's cranium
The people crowded in the street, I knew he was a b*tch when he said (Somebody call the police, please)
We all jumped back up in the ride, I crunk my sh*t and hit the gas
You ain't mad, is ya, b*tch?
Knowin' we ball in these bogus tags, a buster n*gga would've squashed the sh*t by shootin' 'em in the face
I prefer to bust his skull, and that way I won't catch a case
n*ggas gotta realize; crookedness come in every way
The judge know, the lawyer, and the lawyer gonna keep 'em paid
Ninety percent of black people (Who? Me?), got a public defender
Once you locked up in that junt you'll hang (Swing)
You ain't nothin' but a
[Chorus: Kingpin Skinny Pimp, RBX, [?] & 8Ball]
Ghetto ass n*gga from a ghetto—
Back in the-back in the days, n*ggas, they used to scrap
Fools get beat down, fools get beat down
Suckers's can't-suckers's can't get none
Suckers's can't get none
Ghetto ass n*gga from a ghetto—
Back in the-back in the days, n*ggas, they used to scrap
Fools get beat down, fools get beat down
Suckers's can't-suckers's can't get none
Suckers's can't get none