Print

(feat. Mr. Ill, Seagram, Too $hort) [Mr. Ill] I beat repeat offenders, they end up with they back split And ass-backwards, when I let the mac click And "Aww shit" is what they say Three strikes you're out apparently, you thought I was playing? But I weigh in at a ton A scuffle left you muffled cause I had to get my gun And Mr. Snuffalufugus couldn't snort this Cause Oakland, California got funk like shit And it hits just like a Tyson blow Well can't you see that Mr. Ill's got the nicest flow? Well now you know, that hoes get crept up on to So what you gonna do when I creep up on you? Cause if I keep a few to myself, you'll never know Repeat offenders get bent like fenders when I'm on the go, hide your dough Or I'm a get my stab on, huh and leave you bloody buddy like some tampons So get your ass on before I turn the gas on and get my smash on Niggas better dash, holmes, before I get my blast on Cause open arms will be waiting Sin's my friend, and I'm kin to Satan, I'm debating Whether or not you can keep your weight in, and tasting MC's like bloods for dinner, I beat repeat offenders They end up hurting for perping, so throw the fucking curtain Cause it's straight Dirty Work, man Letras de canciones [Seagram] Straight from the East Bay, home of the AK spray Make way for the S-E-A G, O.G. Baller Late night night crawler, 69th shot caller Body hauler, so label me the grim reaper Play your dome, see the game Lead it with the 60-shot heater The Seagster is back, you can't knock it Here to straight tax, you niggas that's outta pocket Clocking a grip is a must, and living plush Check me as I rush another buster to the dust, plus My crew has more Braves than Atlanta Uzi's got diarrehea, can't be stopped with Mylanta Not from Tampa, but from the Bay And I'm a Buccaneer, AK spray, so duck when I'm near Fear, or come up missing Listen when I catch you on my mission You'll be found by someone fishing Ain't no provisions or precautions I'm causing Havoc, tragic, terror, there'll be no errors Or flaws when I'm on the crawl, through all Weather, the ball wedger, making niggas pallbearers I dare a featherwieght to fuck with this heavyweight Then I have to shake and bake and hit him with his mac AK In his face, paint the walls with his blood walking Over niggas like a rug, never dropping duds I'm from the hood of AK's and ski masks Niggas out of pocket ain't getting ghetto passes Blasted, is how you'll be greeted, from the Fully auto mag, niggas want some static Better call for help cause you gon' need it Cause I'm a unleash it, window down On the trey AK spit with minor jerk Better duck or get caught up in the Dirty Work [Ant Diddley Dog] I ain't got shit to lose, cause five-oh sweat me anyway So I use my survival tecniques in many ways Shit if a nigga ever hustles, why not cut some rocks? And if ever a nigga try to show some muscle, why not bust some shots? Yeah, I got some sinister thoughts, in the back of my head Ready to stack 'em up dead, I hate leaving the house without packing a bled I got the heart of a killer in me I've inhaled so much bomb smoke that I can fill a chimmeny Man they should have never let me loose Cause that crazy shit don't faze me, bitch, it just kept me juiced Crack selling, blackmailing and making presidents And I ain't hesitant to burglarize your residence Yeah it's that villian and I'm thinking of jacking tonight Another killer cause my money ain't stacking too right Down on my luck, I'm stuck cause my pockets is flat Yeah I got my gat, so why the fuck do I have to stop why I act? I got one motherfucking chance, buddy And my intentions is to get my damn hands muddy Her man's bloody cause I'm nutty when I start searching Killing niggas is my job and I'm hard working, fool I'm up all night with an early rise Waking up, twisting up motherfuckers like some curly fries, yeah I'm trying to ride drop-top Vettes slamming Utilizing these bitches with high credit cards that be check scamming Yeah, some motherfucking Eastside thangs So blaze up a fat sack and let your G ride swang I'm in the game from the town and I'm stacking plenty A gangsta-ass nigga with that macking in me So if a nigga try to run up, I'm a hurt him first And let him know I'm a G at this Dirty Work [Too $hort] W-O-R-K, I got a gang of hoes that like to work all day And if you think that shit ain't all right I got some more hoes that like to work all night But that's not the point, I'm trying to make My shit is so funky, got you buying my tapes Year after year and I still ain't stopped Got millions of fans and I still ain't pop And I come so real, bitch, you can't stop My motherfucking track record, you can faint and drop And I wouldn't give a fuck cause I'm nothing but a dog, bitch And you're nothing but a slut, want all dick But this nigga named $hort don't fuck for free No punk-ass bitches coming up on me And no nigga can tell me what to do with my life Can't talk about $hort, you're brand new on the mic Me and all my potnas got bitches, fool And I be spitting on the mic about the shit we do I be a broke-ass pimp on the 31st But tomorrow I be putting in some Dirt Work, bitch [Rappin' Ron] Ron's doing dizzert, leaving them niggas hizzurt Running up with that punk shit, thinking that bootsy shit work Fucking with them busters and you think that your back's got The only thing that's got my back is this 16-shot black lock And Ron is one of them niggas you can't fuck with, so fuck that Every time you bust bitch, I duck quick and bust back If you want some motherfucking funk nigga, come and get this And watch your ass fall like the London Bridges You run with bitches, you just another sucker Run up and fuck with us and you can suffer, motherfucker And let me emphasize that I don't emphathize Straight to your brain til the pain intensifies And if the cops hit my block, and they stopping to jock Fuck it, then I'm packing a glock, and popping a cop and watching him drop I'm not finna stop, fuck 5-oh, fuck task, fuck the Feds All you suckers buckle cause you fucking with a knucklehead I kick your ass like Jim Carter And bust your motherfucking head wide open like a pinata And all them finks who ratted me off and tried to jinx Hit them niggas block with the street sweeper And now they whole crew extinct I ain't playing, what I'm saying is that I'm spraying with a gat Fucking laing my AK and lay him on his back Lay him flat, fucked up from the rat-tat-tat-tat See my straps is ready to buck, soo all you saps get ready to buck I'm giving a, fuck, Ron's about to fuck 'em up Buck a uppercut or buck, I'm leaving these motherfuckers stuck Cause I'm just a nut from the street leaving 'em deep in the dirt And as long as you sleep I'm a keep doing Dirty Work From Letras Mania