Heat 4 Yo Azz lyrics

by

E-40


[Verse 1: Celly Cel]
One by one goes the bullets in the clip
Put it in yo gat, one in the chamber, now you're ready to start sh*t
Heat comin from the barrel with a cloud of smoke
Dead bodies on the ground when these fools get loc'ed
It's crazy in the street, pack some heat for a sucker
Mobbin through the town tryin to murder muthaf*ckas
211's every day, liquor store and bank jobs
D boys gettin robbed, n*ggas get jacked for they mobbs
What's a n*gga to do, can't survive without a gun
Snitches in the street, a n*gga livin on the run
It's fun but the pen is like smokin sess
Locked up on a 187'll make any n*gga stress
You can wear a vest, it won't stop two to the head
Shot you in your face and now your ass is better off dead
Talkin sh*t'll get you smoked quick
No need to save a ho because they can't live without di*k
So I focus on the mail, Celly Cel
Ain't no playa-hatin n*gga, I got too much heat to sell
Fairy tales I never kick, it's gangsterism in my veins
I kicked it with the O.G.'s pickin up on game:
Get your money on, f*ck a b*tch and get ghost
And keep one in the chamber for them fools that play you close
Them Sick Wid' It n*ggas keep makin the beat 4 yo azz
Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky n*gga got some heat 4 yo azz

[ Hook (x2)]
Some heat 4 yo azz
Some heat 4 yo azz
Them Sick Wid' It n*gga got the beat 4 yo azz
Some heat 4 yo azz
Some heat 4 yo azz
That n*gga Celly Cel got some heat 4 yo azz

[Verse 2: Celly Cel]
Them Sick Wid' It n*ggas got the beat up comin with some heat
Them federal muthaf*ckas tryin to get a buck in the streets
Every day a n*gga wanna test yo skill
And playa-hatas hate to see a n*gga comin real
The H-i-double l-s-i-d-e
Down with the P.G., n*ggas don't wanna see me
Act a f*ckin fool, shootin up the city
Happy on the trigger like my n*gga Frank Nitty
Let's get into the C thang, Hillside slang
It's a Hillside thang from the Hillside, mang
Smokin em like a chronic sack, rollin em in a zag
Hittin em with the funk and zippin em up in bodybags
Everywhere I go fools get to actin crazy
Wanna let they nuts hang, thinkin they can fade me
So I keep a life-long mug on my face
Rollin with some heat, sippin on a straight lace
A high speed chase, bank it in the side pocket
Po-po's can't f*ck with the 350 rocket
Under my hood it's all good when I'm on the gas
Checkin the rollers and the jackers that try to blast
Tricks of the trade already made, gangster got it down
Never panic under pressure when it's goin down
Droppin a bomb, n*gga, mobb beats 4 yo azz
Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky n*gga got some heat 4 yo azz

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Celly Cel]
Breakin em off somethin proper for the nine-fo'
In the do' is some of that heat 4 yo azz, ho
Little hoes and the don't-know's need to know
A n*gga that flow who ain't comin out the gate slow
Pimpin and and pandlin, ho handlin the whole bit
Killers move in silence, n*gga, I don't talk sh*t
I see them loudmouth n*ggas keep gettin dead
And the silent ones on 25 to life bids
You gotta pack some heat in the street, it's goin down
If you ain't down you better move to a square town
n*ggas talk sh*t, drink and smoke weed up
Hit the county jail straight p.c.-ed up
You never know who really down till the funk jump
Same one that jump and the finger points at the punk
And your crew wasn't down from the get-go
Don't you know how that b*tch-made n*gga sh*t go?
Hollow points get to the point quicker
Cause talkin sh*t full of liquor thinkin that you're sicker
Than the next n*gga'll get you full of bullet holes
Stayin on my toes and I just can't let go
Of this mobb sh*t that I kick 4 yo azz
Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky n*gga got some heat 4 yo azz

[Hook]

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