What You n*ggas Looking at Me 4 lyrics

by

Kurupt


[Intro: Big Nut]
Yeah (yeah) Let's get out there my n*gga
West Coast Killa Beez n*gga (f*ck you looking at n*gga)
Yo, we coming to serve all you b*tch ass muthaf*ckas
Black off Black, Blackball Entertainment, n*gga
West Coast Killa Beez, check it out, west coast style, yo

[Big Nut]
I'm so gangsta, I don't dance or walk
n*gga slide to slide, spit that heat or talk
From California to New York, I'm banging on wax
Like my n*gga Big Y Dog and Little Hogg, f*ck y'all
n*ggas dissin' the Black Techs and Six Mill
For real, you'll f*ck around and get killed
Cap peel, just for saying foul to me
You out of bounds, you won't even last a round with me

[P.C.]
You really need to stop fronting, n*gga
You don't really wanna do nothing, n*gga
Once me get my killas get to dumping, n*gga
You'll stop fall, jackin' and bumping your dentures
Dent your mug, 4-0, slugs, straight up in your cranium
One shot, I'm aimin 'em, shouldn't have been f*ckin'
With the Killa Bee Gang and them, mad dog from P Dot
Like he not, heated, my desert eag' squeeze til you moonwalk and beat it
[Chorus: G Twin (P Nut)]
What you lookin' at me for?
(You don't wanna see this fo'fo, n*gga)
What you really coming to do?
(n*gga I'll f*ck your ass up)
I'll give you what you asking for
(You don't wanna see my fo'fo, n*gga)
An can of asswhipping or two
(n*gga, I'll serve your whole crew)

[Pimp Nasty]
You n*ggas should be calm, try and be patient
Cause if not, you'll be a patient, momma patient
Try'nna get herself together, they tell her, her son gone
He done tricked on, this n*ggas Rob Strick-long
Talkin' out the side of his neck, swearin' that he served some n*gga
From the gang Black Tech, now that's a lie, that's why I socked him in his eye
Hit him so many times, that n*gga bound to die

[P Nut]
Yo, yo, what the f*ck you looking at?
You n*ggas want beef, n*gga, get the cooking at
If you ain't banging rules, I ain't f*cking with you
n*ggas stuck in the booth, n*ggas ducking the truth
Blackball, robbing Nuts, send that n*gga to hell
And go and bloody up the streets and the raunchy motel
When we come around, blood, better keep your chains up
Cause Black Tech n*ggas don't give a mad f*ck
[Chorus]

[RZA]
I'll put y'all n*ggas in a stranglehold, you see my fang go gold
You f*ck around, I'll put this foot up in your anal hole
The Black Tech, four foot magnum, two kiligrams
The sound alone - buck-buck - might kill a man
From Atlantic to Pacific, barehanded with the biscuit
KBG, east to west, we sick with it
Big guns and big di*ks, dip six in sick knicks
Godbodies, bloods and crips and sh*t

[Gangsta Wiggles]
We gon' keep it way more gangsta than y'all, that's on the set
If you trippin' then I'mma holla with a Black Tech
n*ggas hating on me, when I ain't got sh*t
Just a pack of of cigarettes, and a fifth, ain't that a b*tch?
Keep it gangsta? Ya'll don't even know what it mean
Cut a n*gga open, blood, it's realism when I breathe
f*ck yo hood n*gga, we get to cooking that beef
Tell that n*gga, Nut, you better stop looking at me, n*gga

[Chorus]

[G Twin]
On the swing tip, R&B sh*t, to the flip
Get your flip locked, atleast we cool whip, cause I do sh*t
Like talk about pus*y lips all day
I make your momma say, damn, damn, damn, james
Sayin' that you gangsta, just to sell product
Go back to the streets, stand and sell narcotics
It's you n*ggas f*cking up the game, man
And real killas, they gonna take their name back
Now who gangsta, who killa, who die
Nah, who flooded, who sh*tted, who pause
Mans is man, whether they bust a four
It's the who blast shirts, give out the last recall
Blast and haul ass, n*ggas, whoop ass
Frontin', like a chicken with no ass at all
sh*t we mash on y'all, y'all n*ggas don't flaunt it
The Blackball is on it, and we f*ck up your front end
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