Where Ya From lyrics

Chorus [Tec-9]:

Where you from? Represent where you from n*gga!
Where you from? Where you from? Where your from?
Take it to the street twerk somethin' twerk somethin'
Now take it to the street twerk sometin' twerk somethin'
Where you from? Represent where you from n*gga!
Where you from? Where you from? Where your from?
Take it to the street twerk somethin' twerk somethin'
Now take it to the street twerk sometin' twerk somethin'

First Verse [Tec-9]:

Now that the heat done scorched ya, I sparked at'cha
Laughed at'cha, you know you done f*cked up with the master
And you still suckin' on my di*k
Because you bite my sh*t, and recite my sh*t
Switch my rhymes all around and you sing my sh*t
Partners-N-Crime, y'all b*tches with that war claimin'
Y'all be claimin' the seventeenth, but never hangin'
Have you ever put in work for your hood?
You n*ggas talk about that boy, rap about that boy
But you coward muthaf*ckas never seen that boy
Y'all the fakest muthaf*ckas alive!
Tell me where y'all from? n*gga tell me where the f*ck y'all from?
If you don't wanna survive then keep it up
And let me give you the 3rd Ward treatment
Coward b*tches always with that creepin'
If I would have caught'cha
I would have brought'cha in the Calliope and burnt'cha like a b*tch
Cuz I don't got no love for these n*ggas or these cliques
I'm sick of the hoe sh*t, the Black Connection ready to take a hit
I got a posse full of n*ggas and they bout it
I represent, to the fullest
Supplyin' my n*ggas with only hollow tip bullets
Like Yella said, you should have thought twice when you said my name
By now you know you said the f*ckin' wrong name mane
Don't let me catch'cha, I wet'cha put that on my Mama
You n*ggas lame, nothin' shakin' y'all ain't bout no drama
So let me hear ya holler, if ya feel me
And after this you b*tches prolly wanna come and kill me
But I'm unfadeable, on top of that you got no balls
Cuz when the drama jumps off, your sh*t falls
And I don't need no introduction
Cuz I'm crackin' your b*tch face with phat lyrics, and phat production

Chorus

Second Verse [Tec-9]:

Now I'ma do it like a real G do it
I'm walkin', and my four ten is doin' the talkin'
I do my dirt on the cool, fa sho
Handle business by myself and dump your body in the Melph
Then I call up my n*gga from the Black Connection
And tell them what I want them to do with the rest of your CLIQUE
Even the ones that ain't down with the bullsh*t
The good guys suffer for the bad guys rip
Don't ever cross a G, like me
The muthaf*ckin' capital T, to the E, to the C
You never heard the name P-N-C floatin' on the streets
Until them b*tches started dissin' U.N.L.V
I can't respect'cha cuz you not original
And you still tryin' to sound like Reginold
Yeah, my style is buck wild, my flow is like the Nile
And the B.G. is hyper, earnin' stripes like a tiger
Chop yo ass like Viper, and wash you like a windshield wiper
So call Mama, tell her that you won't be makin' dinner
And leave the Police out, or else I'll go and get her
Lil' Ya will put the Tec in they mouth
Bring it out, so we can show them b*tches what it's all about
(What it's all about)

Chorus

Third Verse [B.G.]

Big Boy you better skip town n*gga, don't hang around n*gga
Cuz if I catch'cha, I'ma bring ya down n*gga
I'ma clown n*gga, with the seventeen rounds n*gga
BLUCKA, BLUCKA to yo head, how that sound n*gga?
Knowin' you ain't bout that drama talkin' above yo head
Fat mouth n*gga and they'll find yo monkey ass dead
A Baby Gangsta, straight bout it and I'm ready to prove it
If you bout it, there it is partner we can do it
pus*y says "Drama Time", where the f*ck you at?
You on wax talkin' about let's go gat for gat
But it don't count like that, put aside rappin'
Let's start strappin', bring on the cappin'
I got a clique with Glocks, choppers, and Mac-11's
n*gga tryin' to build nuts off a case that's dumped for seven
But I'ma show ya some real street sh*t
Underestimate a B.G., bound to get'cha head split
I already keep a roll of duct tape and rope Black
So watch'cha back, because you'll find yourself smacked
I already said I'd get that pus*y with the braids but he duckin'
Curious, he must have heard I'm serious
They givin' me a mean look because they bigger
I don't know what make'em figure, that I won't pull the trigger
But that's where they wrong at
Cuz I'll wax they f*ckin' patch
f*ck that boot camp clique, I'll send ya to Hell n*gga
If you want the B.G., you'll find me on V.L. n*gga
When you get it on your mind, we can flex skills
Y'all say you got a hundred G's, but my n*ggas got a mill
So wassup? Put your money where that di*k go
Chuck! You ole trick ass hoe
Stop playin' with me, I done did enough speakin'
Hollows I'ma be releasin', blood just a leakin'
Get your nuts out'cha stomach my n*gga
Get your heart out'cha ass n*gga
Never had my di*k sucked by a man before
Mystikal you gone be the first you lil' trick ass hoe

Chorus