Git Out My Face lyrics

[Chorus]
Fake-ass-ni-ggaz (NEED TO GET OUT MY) faaaace
Fake-ass-ni-ggaz (WON'TCHA STAY OUT MY) faaaace
(ALL YOU FRAUDULENT-ASS n*ggAZ NEED TO GET OUT MY) faaaace
(ALL YOU BEGGIN-ASS b*tchES NEED TO GET OUT MY) faaaace

[Scarface]
News gossip laws gossip boppers boppin hoes beg
Foresake me cause they b*tches always be off in my bed
Always f*ckin with they feelings, b*tch I'll f*ck you with my head
I don't love you and you don't love me so motherf*ck what Donna said
I got paper never spend it I ain't never seen a night
That I felt a need to pay a b*tch unless she was a dyke
Lickin pus*y left and right, bringin b*tches by my place
Jack me off and suck my di*k and let me skeet off in her (faaaace~!)
Blackberry start to buzzin, guess her husband askin questions
Wonderin where she at cause she just called her cousin, mad and fussin
I'm laughin cause I'm f*ckin, slappin ass and titty suckin
Please your nipples, puttin that thump in her ass and she ain't strugglin

[Chorus]
[Scarface]
You ain't gangsta, youse a busta, quick to say that you a hustler
But realistically, you a b*tch to me, sweet as pie but down to Custer
Wanna cry when n*ggas touch ya, wanna hide cause n*ggas bust ya
Got the copies of them statements you was makin motherf*cker
All you fake-ass n*ggas get the f*ck out my (faaaace~!)
'Fore I make it rain and shower you with copper from the A
K, 47 that's gon' be my tool
Make me clack it, I start actin like a motherf*ckin fool (yeah)
Fool, you know me, I've been down since '85
Sellin dime for dime, doublin up my paper every time
I live the life of crime, ghetto life from day to day
Made me throw up both my hands, now get the f*ck up out my (faaaace~!)
[Chorus]
[Scarface]
Thought I mighta hung it up for good, got tired of ridin beats
For free, said f*ck it, I'm gon' go on and coach a team
Play golf and smoke my weed, poke her every other day
Do some groups and keep these haters out my motherf*ckin (faaaace~!)
But this sh*t ain't go the way I planned, I'm caught off in the cross
And if I leave they won't respect the South cause n*ggas soft
Talkin 'bout what's in they mouth, talkin 'bout they cars and house
And that ain't what we all about, we out here workin in a drought
'Bout that paper, 'bout that cabbage, out here hustlin 'til you grab it
Pimp a pimp, you silly rabbit, youse a bun without a tablet
So yo' intellect connect is comin short it out of space
Catchin bricks and weed and ace so get the f*ck up out my face