‘U’ All ‘N’ lyrics

by

Big Tymers


[Verse: 1]
Stop it right there, I dare you to cross that line
Do it I'ma feel you ain't respectin' my mind
I gets loose, backed up, with long toys
It's no truce f*ckin' with these hot boys
Do whatever it takes to wipe your clique off the Earth
Both cliques can't live, somebody gotta see dirt
What makes you think I'ma let'cha ride first?
Try to hide out, that makes sh*t worse
Believe I'm comin', a hundred in the drum and
I don't spanked somethin'
Got the set wonderin'
b*tch n*ggas runnin'
Cable is comin'
That's what'cha get THINK I ain't bout nothin'
You done been showed, brains blowed
You should have knowed, New Orleans carry no hoes
Say what's up to Satan, B.G. ain't bout no fakin'
I handle mine with no debatin' stop underestimatin'


[Hook]
You think I ain't gone split a wig? Think again
You guessin' and underestimatin' "U" all "N"
You think I ain't gone split a wig? "U" all "N"
You guessin' and understimatin', think again
You think I ain't gone split a wig? Think again
You guessin' and underestimatin' "U" all "N"
You think I ain't gone split a wig? "U" all "N"
You guessin' and understimatin', think again

[Verse: 2]
I'ma silent n*gga, you know mobsters eat lobsters
I'ma rider n*gga, riders tote choppers
I'ma gangsta n*gga, gangstas wet shirts
I'ma thinker n*gga, thinkers ride first
I'ma youngster n*gga, youngsters takin' over
I'ma soldier, trip get it knocked off your shoulder
I'ma roller n*gga, you can't predict me
Thinkin' I'm fake, you can't know me
I come hard with 'tillery four deep
Remember I tear down both sides of the street
n*gga I be, the Ca$h Money B.G.,
Ain't no sleep if you beef with me
I'll let you know I'm comin' n*gga I ain't gotta creep
I'll be in all black with reeboks on my feet
Say what's up to Satan, B.G. ain't bout no fakin'
I handle mine with no debatin', stop underestimatin'

[Hook]


[Verse: 3]
Don't think I'm lame, don't judge me off your thoughts mane
Come at me sideways I hook up with Juv, Turk, and Wayne
You can't explain, you wanna be hard don't whine
I click-clats it back and let you tell it to my nine
Sendin' messages, say I'ma b*tch you'll leave me wet
I can't believe you believe I take death threats
You're wrong Wootay, you're absolutely wrong
Now it's on Wootay, your seventeen damagin' health
That's another spankin' completed under my belt
Your Mom in black on the floor her seein' that her son done been left
Brains cooked like a chef, too late for Doctors to help
It's All On U, you brought that issue on yourself
Think you could know me, got kicked off the shelf
I hustle with muscle just to increase my wealth
n*gga say what's up to Satan, B.G. ain't bout no fakin'
I handle mine with no debatin', stop underestimatin'
Chorus

Think....fore you get checkmated
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