Tha M.O.B. lyrics

Swoop G
You can't stop me, baby
Mobb sh*t
You can't stop us, baby. (x2)

Verse 1 *(Keek The Sneek)*

I put that on the... Mobb
My here comes the warrior
Heat from nailin him, yellin out the window when I'm bailin
What you sellin?
I need some zags, I'm ready to get keyed
Juss a phase
If n*ggas go snag a zag, then we go snatch a sack of green
Step back and let the heat go attack 'em, so we can see
Cuz picture my faulty face, fill it up wit drank an clear the space
Sicker than Waco
So wicked yo di*k will scratch an lay low
My folks get deep in yo dome plus roll up yo face an I say so
Leave 'em dangled, severed an strangled
I put that on the Mobb an my Mobbin n*ggas will lay low

Verse 2 *(Knuckle Head)*

They tryin to mug a n*gga
Tryin to put slugs on a n*gga
But I'm lettin a n*gga have it, catch this silly rabbit
What the f*ck??!!
Whoooo got dropped?
What the f*ck??!!
Yoooou got shot
I keep my gun on safety
Cuz n*ggas hate me
Gotta retally me, yet they can't penitrate me
Or fade me
Got shot two times, bullets grazed me
Lable me a mental Knuckle Head, b*tch I'm crazy
The Mobb slangs z's like Scarface on keys
Rollin Lexo's an Benzo's sittin on Gold D's
Verse 3 *(Numskull)*

I put that on the Mobb
Slob, or no pus*y, I rock pussies
An after I f*ck, I consider the clitoris my pus*y
So do the do b*tch, I figure that Knuckle Head an Dru spit
(Who you speakin on n*gga??!!)
You b*tch
It's Swoop's sh*t
Day by day the blunt walk
Hamps, chron-chron, Hindu an drunk talk
I be the wall behind the heater
Call me yo leader
Makin n*ggas go old school like Dan Sever
Makin Num, Num inbetween 'em ain't no thang
di*k on hang, slang mo pus*y then sunsets on one set can't hang
Bang-bang, love me to give me skrilla
Hug me to give me lovely, Mobb love killa, killa

*(Chorus- 3X Krazy, Luniz & Swoop G)* -x2

We Mobb n*gga
Hooride n*gga, we drop n*ggas
You gettin mobbed n*gga
I put that on the Mobb n*gga
Verse 4 *(Yukmouth)*

Uh, n*gga any bottle drunken
X-O swallowed, pumpkin
Head gettin
Lead spittin an I'm hittin blunts an
The chefs hittin, on dubb members
My n*gga Num, S-S mean mug n*ggas, ex-drug deala n*ggas
Who love hittaz (Drink-A-Lot)
He be the licksta
(Smoke-A-Lot) he be the the twista
Like the movies, sock it to me
Like Rudy Ray Mode, or human tornado
n*gga I'm groovy
Break n*ggas wit the Hong-Kong fuey, plus light n*ggas up wit the uzi
I put that on the... paraphanali
I'm a keep the Cristally in my belly
I touch mo bread then jelly
One snap like Fonzarelli, make a b*tch sell me
pus*y until it gets smelly, an then I'm finished

Verse 5 *(Bart)*

Got my pistol gripped tightly
Make you do the right thang like Spike Lee
Despite the
n*ggas who be takin the M.O.B. lightly
It might be
Another case of name loss
Cuz game cost, for the n*gga that stole my butter I'm a show you off
He coughed
I opened them lungs like Primetine Mist
f*ck wit a
Forehead splitter, wit a clenched fist
Dismissed
Off the face of the planet
Sank like Titanic
Boy don't panic, I'm juss a Sickaluffa skitzofrentic
f*ckin b*tches that be jockin Oakland game
I ran it, never leave empty handed
An the hataz can't stand it
But can't stop it either
Behind a 9 millimeter
I put that on the Mobb you'll be left on a machine greeter
Verse 6 *(Ager Man)*

n*ggas wanna get they test on
Better have they vest on
Packin a clip full of teflon
Leavin you n*ggas stepped on
f*cked around an got crept on
Slippin in his 'Stang
Talkin bad about 3 Times, I had to do my thang
Mobb sh*t, wit a pistol grip
30 officers hit, wit a clip
When you get stuck on yo door wit a $150 dolla kicks
An slappin that ass juss like a b*tch
n*gga f*ckin wit n*ggas, don't ya know
You best believe you f*ckin wit soldiers
That'll chop that ass up, roll in the cut like A-1 Yola
A-G mutha f*ckin E
Got a Glock an a 3-50
n*ggas better hope like Bob
That they don't get robbed
f*ckin wit the Mobb n*gga

*(Swoop G talking)*

Hold up n*gga.... f*ck all you n*ggas that ain't wit this Mobb sh*t. You
Wit us or against us. Success is the best revenge

*(Chorus-x2)*

Verse 7 *(Swoop G)*

The Mobb game got us n*ggas brain hangin like wall paper
You shouldn't have ran yo mouth about the Mobb at all playa
All spraya
Able to rip sh*t
An still Eclipse spit, guess our heataz start to come in triplets
The Oakland edition, where we was raised
An rolls mutha f*ckaz up off the turf that didn't belong
One phone call, to my roll dog
I have a roll call to finish
n*ggas brought paraphanalia comin to get ya
They proper position
To chop 'em wit street sweepers an Glocks
Selection wit heataz, an sections to hectic to stop
Like mad caulkin, an bad cops
An all this sh*t that can get yo ass popped
Or get yo ass shot
I put that on
n*ggas I rob wit in Eastside California
Pullin up an puttin the pistol on ya

Verse 8 *(Cydal)*

Paraphanalia to the Mobb
We treat yo face like pus*y, f*ck yo head
Why did the world distort, potnaz deadly, warfares
This 'sidal life has got me strapped an sayin, more prayers
Been down on one knee, hopin that when the killa comes that he don't gun
Me
Life is money
Mind over matter until the death n*gga
Fo life
I had that P.M.O.B. written across my chest
I guess
The mental mandatory got me cleanin up blocks
For sh*tty n*ggas like I'm in the janitorial business
After droppin a dime n*ggas will Mobb, many an all
When the bullet flys many will fall
Til I die paraphanalia verse 'em all
T Luni the first to call
I bet, as applied hearse an casket fo 'em all
As we Mobb n*gga

*(Chorus-x2)*