Trigga Happy lyrics

by

Too $hort


[Intro: Dope Fiend Willie]

Heh Heh Yeah goddamn it's that old gangsta sh*t right there boy goddamn
sh*t heh heh
This is Dope Fiend Willy from the last mutha f*ckin record I want the
Ten piece hey I got me some now I don't give a f*ck but uh huh yeah you
All ain't gonna know nothin bout this O.G. sh*t
Unless you start knowin sumpim about Uzi's and sh*t So uh?

[Verse 1: Spice 1]
Now this 380 was a b*tch who used to ho up on my block
She lived on smith-n-wesson with that pimp Mr. Glock
Now Glock had many b*tches, he sold pus*y by the pound
And b*tches jocked his trigga everytime he came around
Big baller, big game shooter
Until he met that crazy mutha f*cka Mr. Ruger
Now Ruger was a pimp too, he had his own hoes
Mrs. Hollow Tip and Nina who wore ho'ish clothes
G-string up the ass with the big fat clitoris
Drinkin that Colt 45 'cause she's a gangsta b*tch
I love my Nina and my Nina loves me motherf*ckers think I'm crazy
I'm just trigga happy

[Chorus]
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy n*gga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy n*gga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy n*gga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy n*gga
(Heh heh, well goddamn smith-n-wesson, heh heh heh, I got me a colt 45
Back at the mutha f*ckin house heh heh, yeah I'm ready to do somethin'
With one of these little ol'young mutha f*cka's heh heh yeah, but I
Think maybe a ol' ten piece hook me up mutha f*cka I know you got that
sh*t
Yeah mutha f*ckin Dope Fiend Willie in the house, don't give a f*ck
About no n*gga heh, motherf*cker, sh*t)
[Verse 2: Spice 1]
Mr. Snubnose slangin the yay out the bullet shed
And Mrs. Mossberg blowin up his [?]
And the sh*t it don't be gettin no better
You gotta watch for that crooked ass cop Officer Beretta
Put your ass in a sling
Check out that skinny ass b*tch Duece Duece thinking she Miss Thing
And Mr. Tec-Nine lookin for some convo
And he jammed and stuttered when he could had a ho
But he still knockin boots from hell to heaven
n*gga got a page about three feety seven
Didn't pay for for the c*ck
So now he got a deal with that b*tch's pimp, Mr. Glock

[Chorus]
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy n*gga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy n*gga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy n*gga
(Yeah yeah I like that new sh*t boy yeah heh heh trigga happy, trigga
Happy HEH trigga happy n*gga, yeah I like that sh*t. I'm bout to go
Over here and talk to these girls over here damn baby what you got on
And sh*t)

[Verse 3: Spice 1]
Now every n*gga's wavin peace to the nine
'Cause Glock hit the block in a jeep drinkin cheap wine
With his n*gga AK, drug kingpin
Gotta find Mr. Tec-Nine do his ass in
n*ggas plottin hits, plottin schemes
But Mr Tec-Nine hang with AR-15
An OG n*gga from the hood got his cash on
Rollin fly brooms, smokin chronic to the f*ckin dome
And Mr Glock got the word from his people
Mr. Tec-Nine's havin a party at the Desert Eagle
So right in front of the club when he checked his beeper
Tec-Nine blasted his ass with the street sweeper
[Chorus]
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy n*gga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy n*gga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy n*gga
Trigga happy, trigga happy, trigga happy n*gga
(Goddamn sh*t f*ck yall and your folks got these
Days? That old chronic sh*t look at that! Goddamn boy let me get
Another hit of that sh*t, goddamn
You ol' trigga happy mutha f*ckin youth)
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