Comin at Cha lyrics

by

O.C.


[Intro]
Uh
Yeah!
Primo
Big money cow
My man Pos
M.O.P
First Family
Ya know I'm go
Street sh*t
Yo!

[Verse 1]
Open your eyes b*tch
The hardest thing to accomplish is convincing the world I didn't exist
(HOLY sh*t!!!) Drama, blazing a 4.5 blama raised to uphold my honor
Who don't respect me?
Death be the b-k black Joe Pesci
Words to 3 ways to dead beat
n*ggas got beef, to break some
I convert the whole concrete jungle in a animal kingdom
sh*t the way I figure it
You only being called a Ruff Ryder
Cause you'll be all over motherf*ckers di*k
You motherf*cking coward
You ain't got sense enough to realize the n*ggas I Browns with
Blow holes in your houses
Go ahead and put ya foot in ya mouth
sh*t gets down and dirty I starts sh*tting n*ggas with hoods in ya house
And I'mma be the last man standing on the block poppin of a mad-ass cannon
b*tch we on the planet

[Hook scratched]
(We comin' at cha)
(Killing 'em dead)
(Whatever the cause of this)
(I bring the pain)
(We comin' at cha)
(Killing 'em dead)
(Whatever the cause of this)
[Verse 2]
I got a good mind to smack you
Back you down and clap you
For real my skills the steel is factual
I could do drop, duck and roll
But when I hop pop a lot c*ck buck and blow you got bust into
God damn you
I ain't got enough money to hire hitmen
So I do my sh*t manual
I'm a hands-on n*gga who don't mind gettin' my hands dirty
It's hard work, but my squad is worthy
And when we get it we gonna keep it
In this game we the best kept secret
And double n*ggas is the only n*ggas teph creep with
You know how thugs do
We block the block tryin avoid the avoid the cop
Packin mags with muzzle
And it really ain't a problem
To let n*ggas get richer than we rob 'em
And put 'em in a obituary column
We real thugs with dangerous minds
And a track record a mile long
f*ck commiting a-hideous crime

[Hook scratched 2x]
[Verse 3]
See I'm one of them heistmen
In a car poppin mob-deep guns under the carseat
Driving without a lisence
f*cking with hoodrats
n*ggas send me out of bounds somewhere uptown
And wonder where the rest of my wolves at?
Whoever I roam with, whether I'm alone sh*t
Just know I'm Brownsville bound whenever I get home-sick
Whether alone or we creeped together
We keep peeped tucked under the lever
But to hold the streets forever!
See I was hand picked
The drawn steel would lock everything from the saw-mill to fair wind
Motherf*cker it's a raw deal
New York is up for grant y'all I bust ya last nut off
And ya about to get ya power shut off
When the clock strikes 12
I'm a pop like 12
And the n*ggas on ya block might tell that they see ya
Little n*gga running down the street
Dumpin the 3 time 3 millimeter
Hollaring Free Mumia

[Hook scratched 2x]
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