Juvenile - Cock It

Текст песни

Uh Huh, Uh Huh\nMic check one, two\nit’s Juvenile coming through\nUh Uh c’mon, c’mon\nWho the man? if I ain’t it nigga can’t claim it\nI can take a small name and make it famous\nI reason with no one homie I got fa sho cliental\nI’m a XL out here in the streets or lyin in jail\nI’m quick tempered please limit ya words\nI will send you in a hurry down south with the Spurs\nit’s kind of hard to understand me cause I speak with a slur\nbut my guns speak a language all the people done heard\nstreets sense gon' keep me in it for a minute\nya fuckin with a general salute me lieutenant\nI’m not too particular with lies\nI look 'em in the eyes say a pray before you die\nthis ain’t about me this about somethin thats spoke\nyou know runnin with a nigga while you cuttin his throat\noh them loose lip bitches get hung from a rope you know\nbagged up and throwed off the side of a boat, oh!\nCock it, take berrata then pop it\ngive me that out ya pocket cause the best can’t stop it\nEast coast wuzzup, Down south wuzzup\nWest coast wuzzup, Mid West wuzzup\nKeep on makin ya laws, I’m a keep breaking them\nI can move a package in any city I’m stationed in\nif ya son touchin my shit you better pray for him\nbust his head and catch me a flight to where the hatreds been\nI ain’t the only solider they got alot of these\nall of these children make me know who dropped alot of seeds\nI smoke till my eyes shut\nstay strapped so if you think about sneakin you better wise up\nhit you with the traqualizer let it fill ya head\nparalyze you have ya screamin «I can’t feel my legs»\nregardless of what a nigga or a bitch done said\nthe shell around ya get poked like eggs\nI’m from the M-A-G-N-O-L-I-A\nmy bitches gonna listen to what the hell I say\nyou niggas gonna respect it or get out my way\nor the (??) gonna have to do ya autopsay (autopsy)\nYou old niggas on ya last limb\nmove over let some niggas who really want it come cash in\nsuppose to get killed for cock blockin in cells\nsolider bet you can’t get no chronic up in hell\nfresh off the porch where the stash spot\nI’m hungry tryna get the same respect that my Dad got\ngot the chopper cut the weight, nice in the stash box\nnigga be on paper so himmed up from the bad cops\nhow the hoes be actin over dey child support\nI need to snatch me a coat and endorse it with dope\nI ain’t even gotta speak on it I put my G on it\nniggas gon' let us get that whenever we want it\nbeef is beef whenever the shit occurs\nif it’s real it’s gon' resolve into metal for sure\nbut hit the right one he ain’t respectin my bad\nmy only satisfaction will be poppin your ass