Juvenile, B.G., Bun B Buy

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Christopher Dorsey (born September 3, 1980), better known by his stage name B.G. (short for "Baby Gangsta" or "B. Gizzle"), is an American rapper and actor, from New Orleans, Louisiana. He began his music career signed to Cash Money Records in 1993 with Lil Wayne as half of the duo The B.G.'z . Both, along with rappers Juvenile and Turk collectively formed the group, the Hot Boys in 1997. In 2001, B.G. resigned from Cash Money Records, and created his own label, Chopper City Records. more »


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featuring Bun be	, Juvenile, Ms. Tee 

First Verse: [Juvenile] 

Scraped my elbow jumpin' the fence 

Creepin' through the grass camoflauged lookin' for them 

Cowards, non-believers, contradictors, I'm comin' to get ya 

You try to frame me without the picture 

Shit, I'm obligated, to be a Juvenile for life 

It don't change robbin' shit in this game 

I know you heard about that 7th ward, 9th and the rest 

But who's down to knock a head off and wear a vest? 

Take a flight through that Nolia and then see who represent 

Not with them thugs ridin' wearin' them black reebok tennis 

Niggas fifteen, sixteen, seventeen 

Slangin' iron from that Josephine through that Melphanine 

And would do almost anything to prove himself relentless 

Like, a murder job and forgettin' the consequences 

Hustlin' through the brick walls avoidin' the feds 

Pushin' the dope steady duckin' blue eyes and curly heads 

And he got caught and then start, runnin' with yo peers 

Got swole and been home and now you back out chea 

And that boyd that cha shot, brothas hangin' on the block 

You don't know him but he know ya look you bout to get got 

BOW!!!!!! Laid out in cold blood on the Ave. 

Here comes the paramedics media and crime lab 

Understand this is all he know and it's all he see 

Which is why they known to be a Juvenile just like me 

Would'ja see that my words were a little bit cold a little bit trife 

Down with Tec Mafia Juvenile fa life 

Chorus: [Ms. Tee] 

Niggas.......they comin' to get'cha 

You betta watch ya back before they muthafuckin' split cha (3x) 

Second Verse: [B.G.] 

Ain't that cold? I heard a nigga, downed my nigga 

My partna just paged me and say they found my nigga 

It's a bust back thang can't be no hoes 

I got a hundred rounds plus for my Calico 

Fa sho we get's busy, and leave that ass fonky 

Full of that monkey and we don't to act a donkey 

I'ma go get in my all black fit, when I come just sit 

'cause if ya sit cha hit, if ya split cha split 

If you die, you die 

Take it ten for one, wave bye-bye wave bye-bye 

You done took mine, I'ma take yearn 

This is what'cha earn, chopper bullets burn 

S.K. trigga clicker, the blunt-smoker lighter flipper 

Paper chaser for six figures bout my issue 

I'm get to split cha, get cha if you in my way 

I'ma deal wit'cha, muthafucka take a picture 

I'll wax that ass then tax on my yay 

Today if play I lay with the A.K. 

To spray and lay down the snaps I get down 

Niggas can't touch what me and Bun puttin' down 

Now down and pump round and distribute kees 

You sleep six feet I tear down the whole street 

Wear down the family they grieve because ya flat 

Bust ya head up leave ya deader yo blood redder 

I done fucked ya set down nigga hut 

Nigga what keep ya mouth shut retaliation is a must 


Third Verse: [Bun B] 

Dead ass nigga don't fail, no yellin', hit the door it never fail 

Shippin' his ass off to Hell, still the killas left behind him 

Can't find him 'cause the nine flatlined him 

Now Mister, murda master for the lastin' 

Niggas tryed to swerve it past her, turned into a nervous bastard 

The blaster the Cash Money clique'll shoot em up 

And me all we had to do was boot em up 

He got the buck now who the f*ck want it? 

I can't see it happen, clips be clappin' 

Cappin' you til' you see through Bitch go ask B3 too how we do 

'cause me, you to one equals people, 

Retaliation also known as the sequel 

It's X-rated, 'cause the clique's made ten and now you throw the bitch 

Like I got no fuckin' sense, and I don't so take that 

A dead ass nigga can't talk, wave or blink back 

Click! Snapshot, to me your rap's not 

That hot like a fat rock off a crack spot 

In the back got a stable, 

That's able to crack a bitch with a conference table 

Then choke her wit a jumper cable 

A Chiefer that stay reefer mo blunted 

One time a hoed stunted 

We beat that bitch and right now no more frontin' 

Niggas actin' all shitty, gettin' no pity 

'cause my niggas actin' pretty showin' many from our city 

retaliation nigga 


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Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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