Niggaz Get They Wig Split

B-Legit, C-BO, Celly Cel Buy

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B-Legit

Brandt Jones (born January 13, 1972), better known by his stage name B-Legit, is an American rapper from Vallejo, California. more »


Year:
1996
56 Views

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[Featuring see-Bo, Celly Cel] 

be	-Legit: 

Bitch I got beam like Scotty 

Leave you spotty 

When I point this aim at your brain 

And leave them hollow thangs in your body 

Lodi-dodi I drinks Bacardi 

Gets dick hard drunk 

When I'm off that skunk punk 

And you don't want to dance tingo tango 

I let my left right mingle mangle 

To your jaw southpaw 

It oughta be a law against these thangs I throw 

About to lay some shit down with Celly Cel and Bo 

From the Garden Blocc 

Hillside got they Glock 

Mack 10's 

Mobb shit'll neva end 

I'm tryin' to have it all 

So I ball 'till I'm gold 

Mobbin' through a sixty usin' cruise control 

see-Bo: 

I'm fuckin' wit that click nigga 

That big nigga on the block 

With Glocks, Rag Tops 

Cut thangs on them gold knocks 

Better watch your back 'cause we strapped with teks 

Push up in a blue Lex' 

And dump caps to your neck 

Mobb shit 

Bustaz all die 

Leather trench 

Brim and two nines 

Costume of a killa 

At your bed side holdin' on two millas 

Uggh we bust them teks close range 

Livin' estranged 

Called insane 

'cause when it's on it's on site no matter night or day 

And you can't f*ck wit these 

Get smothered with a half a key 

Bitch 

Celly Cel: 

Give me the ball and I'ma fill the lane like 'Fenney 

Hardaway 'cause I'm out to get every penny 

Any nigga disrespectin' when I'm checkin' for my scrilla 

I know'm stilla wig splittin' killa ain't no realla 

Nigga realla than me 

Mobbin' through your hood and takin' heads 

Slumpin' hangin out the windows dumpin' 

And shakin' 'Feds 

So mind your own 

Cross the line and see how quick they gone 

Head blown decapitated caught slippin' in my zone 

Fuckin' with this Mobb shit 

Niggaz get they wig split 

see-Bo: 

Uggh it's the murder man posted at the front door 

And when they comes I dumps with both four-four's 

Letin' 'em have it 'cause I'm static 

Dumpin the grass 

Killed his ass 

And then kneel down and get my last laugh 

Punk bitch shouldn't have tripped 

Now he lay dead in the ditch 

Ass ripped 

Suckin' on his own dick 

Money talk 

Bullshit walk 

Fool this ain't no sunshine 

Three killas 

One garden blocc, two hillside 

be	-Legit: 

This shit's fucked and I am tag teamin' with the murder man 

And that'll hurt a man 

Niggaz doin' dirt and 

All you got to do is hop your ass in my 'Cut 

We'll be back tomorrow mornin' 

Cell, you comin' or what? 

I got this gut feelin' 

About to make the killin' for a livin' 

The contract said the nigga wore a wire tap 

And they want him dead 

A hundred G's for his head 

And leave a bloody glove down where that body bled 

Celly Cel: 

Red rum is what I'm hummin' as I hit the fence 

Homicide looked for prints but found no evidence 

Stuffed his head in the duffel bag and zipped it up 

Them ballas want to see his face before they break us off a cut 

There it is cashed him like some chips at Reno 

Slid us a briefcase full of crispy ass see-Notes 

Made the hit 

Got the scrilla 

Gone without a trace 

be	 behind the wheel 

And Bo Loc cuffed to the briefcase 

Yo' nigga Cell got the chopper 'case they on my trail 

If it's a tail then I'ma leave a 50 empty shells 

Pistol smokin' 

These niggaz know we ain't no jokin' 

Split up the tokens 

And I'm back in the hood loccin' 

Fuckin' with this Mobb shit 

Niggaz get they wig split 

be	-Legit: 

Yeah, like a real hillside strangler, yola slanger, tryin to get a 

buck but if I'm fucked in the gas chamber. 

The autopsy red, them niggaz had some heat fo yo ass. 

And never leave your block without your glock, clip and mask. 

Haters hatin but its all game related and that's what we do bitch

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Written by: BRANDT JONES, MARCELLUS JAMES MC CARVER, MICHAEL MOSLEY, SHAWN THOMAS

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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