Tales of the n*ggas Who Got Crept On lyrics

by

E-40


(*Several coughs*) (*Inhales*)

(Intro)
Yeah, hahahaha, what's black and blue floating face down in a river huh, huh
Mark Furman tellin n*gga jokes (oh sh*t, ain't about a b*tch), yeah

(Spice 1)
I got your mama up in the trunk of my hooptie (let me out, let me out), what should I do with the b*tch?
I think I want to dump her in a ditch, 'cause I'm a kidnapper
Body-snatcher, witness killer, special deliver, some murder to your door n*gga
Open it up and you'll be staring right down the barrel of a Desert Eagle fo-fo
When I split your fo' it's time to bail, stick and move, dip and dive
And ain't no trace, just a bullet enlodged up in your f*ckin face
I knew a n*gga who always wore black
Said he was an O.G. player shot up some n*ggas with Macks
Said he had a little drama with some high powered killers
And the n*gga that watched his back, he said he'd give me some scrilla
So he parlayed through the city, hittin party's and clubs
Until these so called O.G. motherf*ckers finally showed up
These bast*rds opened up fire in the middle of the party
Blow to the floor and pulled my Mack and aimed for legs and bodies (oh sh*t, god damn)

(Chorus)
Kick to the tales of the n*ggas who got crept on
(punk ass motherf*ckers)
(n*gga, f*ck that n*gga, straightly smoked)
Kick to the tales of the n*ggas who got crept on
Kick to the tales of the n*ggas who got crept on
(Spice 1)
I hit two n*ggas up in the ankle and one in the knee
Ain't nothin but the motherf*ckin hog in me
So I bails to my caddy with the triple gold danas
Gun powder on my fingers and still got one up in the chamber
I told my n*gga to bring his slow ass on
Cause if he's stabbin the motherf*ckers, the other two won't be long
They comin, so hit the dirt and try to crawl to the ville and
These fools is some killers and I can see they really want this n*gga
Musta f*cked em out some paper or somethin sick
Whatever it is these n*ggas want to bury his di*k
Got in the caddy and raised up out the drama scene
Looked like some gangsta sh*t you see up on the TV screen
But it ain't no cut, just action live, n*ggas die
Drug related killings reach an all time high
See real killers can be slept on
I'm kickin the tales of the n*ggas who got crept on

(Chorus)
(sh*t), kick to the tales of the n*ggas who got crept on
(Go n*gga, police lookin and sh*t n*gga)
Kick to the tales of the n*ggas who got crept on
(f*ck you doing n*gga, firin up a joint, motherf*ckin...)
Kick to the tales of the n*ggas who got crept on
(f*ck is wrong with you?)
(Spice 1)
We chopped it up, my partner had some love
Fifty g's to creep on the n*ggas that tried to kill us up that f*ckin club
Twenty five up front and twenty five up for the killin
For that kind of money I'll have they blood up on the f*ckin ceiling
Now the slaughter is about to begin
Mini 14's, six homies and some motherf*ckin Mack 10's
Infra-Red, silencer, I'll silence ya, cut off ya P-G-A and a Massacre
Everybody, cause can't no n*gga diss me
n*ggas you sent to the club, with some motherf*ckin pus*y (pus*y)
I'm feelin, hit the hospital straight do they ass
I took em down to his basement and then I stabbed his ass
Screams jumpin the night, the n*gga never heard I kill with a routin
Even got him for a couple of birds
So then I creep up into the I-C-U, I see you livin too long
n*gga you crept on, your life gone

(Spice 1)
Yeah n*gga, got some sh*t just for you
Special motherf*ckin can catch sh*t you on, uncut herion n*gga
Straighten your motherf*ckin Bays n*gga
Yeah n*gga, you like this sh*t huh n*gga, suffer n*gga
Suffer motherf*cker, yeah, take a good dose of the sh*t, n*gga
Yeah, yeah n*gga you feelin it huh, can't breathe, what you can't breathe
Somethin wrong what, what, huh, huh, what, what, huh, huh, huh, what
Oh, thought you said somethin, hahahaha...
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net