Felonies lyrics

by

Eazy-E


[Hook]
What's up with partner, Where he live, Where he stay at
Where the ice, where the bread, where the yay at?
I'm telling you man you don't want it with dem boyz
Everyone of them got felonies man!
I'm slap me a n*gga, before its over with
I'm rush me a n*gga, before its over with
Duct tape me a n*gga, before its over with
I'm bust me a n*gga, before its over with

[DUKE]
I'm sick & I'm tired of n*ggas asking bout mine
If I'm c*ckin' that iron, I'm telling you I'm sending them signs
I move fast forward I ain't got no button to rewind
I react of instinct I ain't stressing' no time
I came a long way from peddlin' rocks
Block recognized the gangsta & he up my stock
Showed me the recipe & other grams I copped
Home ain't a home with outta arm & hammer box
sh*t, Jeezy just be beeped on that cell
Got them pre-teen numbers I like, like R.Kelly (I got that work n*gga)
Lotta n*ggas they be claimin' the spot
But we the only ones that still represent it like mascots
So ask not why my attitude is sh*tty
Step aside while a real n*gga move the city, huh
From my block to your block n*ggas know me
They know that ol' reppin' ass n*ggas a O.G
We use to rock flip-flops, tube socks with gold teeth
And a flip flop crease with gold shoes on all they feet
Please believe we ain't playing no games
But I will take a charge if you try to drive my lane
Plus I gotta donkey di*k to drive the broads insane
I'm a street cat, sh*t you know I'm hard to tame
[Hook]

[YOUNG JEEZY]
I'm a gangsta motherf*cka if you ever seen one
Black fitted cap n*gga & some Air Force One's
Hey and I'm strapped so don't set trip
.45 hit cha make your whole chest split
Sleepy Brown n*gga I can't wait
Fifty grand round my neck like bait
Hey and keep thinking its gravy
Everybody from my hood know Jeezy is crazy
And I ain't playin' wit cha motherf*ckers
Shoot both of y'all make y'all n*ggas blood brothers (that's righhht)
And I'm so sincere, I ain't playing wit cha n*ggas this year
(Hey we gone rob dem Boyz n Da Hood) b*tch please
I'll kill a mothaf*cker by Jody Breeze
Yeah n*gga that's the truth, by Big Dee Big Duke I'll shoot

[Hook]

[BIG DEE]
I'm telling you man I be rollin' on dem corner no Range no necklace man
Range Rover no rims left they neck in the pain
And put the silencer on the tip professional man
Pressure point blank like a sexual change
And split cha head down the middle like a sectional man
Hard blow to hard coat expose the four
Even though I tote gun I don't rob no more
Now here I go on the patio with a flat head screwdriver
Prying on the side door in a gat proof suit liner
Calm but I'm wide open they act I'm do something
Quite its going down on 'em with a Mack 11 two rifle
Pistol, pumps, switch & knives
Pistol grips, smoked clips, nightsticks & players
No myth I'm him f*cka get hypnotized
Now get killed in the mist we suggest you ride
[Hook]

[JODY BREEZE]
Well I'm the youngest in the click boy try me like a b*tch
And I'll bet cha I'll be the first to punch you in ya sh*t
Y'all n*ggas just talking, y'all n*ggas ain't ready
Y'all n*ggas don't want none of this
While y'all out spending 100's on your necks
Spending 100's on your wrist, spending 100's on your rims
I'm on the block spending 100's on bricks
Sending 100's to the J gotta 100 more fits
Fake n*ggas get killed round here
Its trill in the ville betta get it how you live
And if not c*ck back bust at cha c*ck suckers motherf*cka in fact I will
Cause the n*ggas that I roll with and blow dro with
f*ck hoes with they outta control
Realer in bumpin' chevy's with Mac 11's holdin' it steady
Ready to put seven up in your belly boy

[Hook]
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