Song parody of
You Can Get the Gat for That
by Spice 1
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You can get the gat for this
And you can get the gat for that
[Chorus]
Niggas wonder why S-P-I do or die
I don't give a fuck, I'm just a nigga stayin' high
So why do you roll with a strap on ya side
Cause these playin hatin niggas want to jack me for my rizzide
Niggas wonder why S-P-I do or die
I'm just a young nigga and I'm tryin' to get my cash on
So why do you roll with a strap on ya side
Cause if shit'll get too funky I might have to get my blast on
It goes 1 for the treble, two for the funk
Time to get my motherfuckin' twelve gauge pump
I blast off like NASA, as I rolls right past ya
Bust a couple a caps and leave ya ghost like casper
I peels caps like bad, comes wicked like Is
They make me hollow tipped and then they seal it with a kizz
For them bootsie motherfuckers that be ridin around
Hidin around the corner tryin to get a motherfucker down
Wearin his adams apple like a fuckin' snapple
Dismantle motherfuckers, and hear they bodies crackle
Laugh like a jackel as I tackle they ass
With a fury of them buckshots, crackin' they mask
Kinda skip the drama, puts bodies in freezers like Jeffrey Dahmer
You can get the gat for that kidnap your mama
The big mack from the itty-bitty city
Niggas actin' shitty so I licks 'em with my nitty
[Chorus]
Stick that nigga, I told my DJ Xtra Large
As we pull some niggas car up out his own garage
I stack them niggas up in them hearses like a can a sardines
2000 dollars a body, I'm for hire if you got the green
"Ya got the mad buy, my millimeter to say
187, comin' wicked leavin' black much day"
I don't be fuckin' with them niggas who be shady 'n' shit
Better stock that grip and an extra clip and a bottle a Hindu to sip on
Trip on this nigga that's leavin' 'em dead in the alley
What's your murder penal code? 781 here in Cali
Red rum, we hit'cha and we give ya some
See mosta these niggas up in my set, we bustin' dumb-dums
My uzi eats 'em up and spits 'em out, fuck a title bout
I'm pullin' my gat up out a fist fight with out a doubt
Cause I ain't playin, fightin is fuckin' around
I'd rather bust and leave your ass 6 feet up under ground
[Chorus]
Yeah, its the G-Motherfuckin' Nizzo, that nappy headed nigga
They got me lookin' up over my shoulder now man
I gotta strap
I ain't be shady, playa hataz hate me
Bitches snitchin, heh, it really ain't the same
But um, Spice told me once, him and DJ Xtra Large, they told me
That I can get the strap for this
And that I can get the strap for that
And that's what the fuck I'm gone do
I'm out this bitch man
You can get the gat for this
And you can get the gat for that
[Chorus]
Niggas wonder why S-P-I do or die
I don't give a fuck, I'm just a nigga stayin' high
So why do you roll with a strap on ya side
Cause these playin hatin niggas want to jack me for my rizzide
Niggas wonder why S-P-I do or die
I'm just a young nigga and I'm tryin' to get my cash on
So why do you roll with a strap on ya side
Cause if shit'll get too funky I might have to get my blast on
It goes 1 for the treble, two for the funk
Time to get my motherfuckin' twelve gauge pump
I blast off like NASA, as I rolls right past ya
Bust a couple a caps and leave ya ghost like casper
I peels caps like bad, comes wicked like Is
They make me hollow tipped and then they seal it with a kizz
For them bootsie motherfuckers that be ridin around
Hidin around the corner tryin to get a motherfucker down
Wearin his adams apple like a fuckin' snapple
Dismantle motherfuckers, and hear they bodies crackle
Laugh like a jackel as I tackle they ass
With a fury of them buckshots, crackin' they mask
Kinda skip the drama, puts bodies in freezers like Jeffrey Dahmer
You can get the gat for that kidnap your mama
The big mack from the itty-bitty city
Niggas actin' shitty so I licks 'em with my nitty
[Chorus]
Stick that nigga, I told my DJ Xtra Large
As we pull some niggas car up out his own garage
I stack them niggas up in them hearses like a can a sardines
2000 dollars a body, I'm for hire if you got the green
"Ya got the mad buy, my millimeter to say
187, comin' wicked leavin' black much day"
I don't be fuckin' with them niggas who be shady 'n' shit
Better stock that grip and an extra clip and a bottle a Hindu to sip on
Trip on this nigga that's leavin' 'em dead in the alley
What's your murder penal code? 781 here in Cali
Red rum, we hit'cha and we give ya some
See mosta these niggas up in my set, we bustin' dumb-dums
My uzi eats 'em up and spits 'em out, fuck a title bout
I'm pullin' my gat up out a fist fight with out a doubt
Cause I ain't playin, fightin is fuckin' around
I'd rather bust and leave your ass 6 feet up under ground
[Chorus]
Yeah, its the G-Motherfuckin' Nizzo, that nappy headed nigga
They got me lookin' up over my shoulder now man
I gotta strap
I ain't be shady, playa hataz hate me
Bitches snitchin, heh, it really ain't the same
But um, Spice told me once, him and DJ Xtra Large, they told me
That I can get the strap for this
And that I can get the strap for that
And that's what the fuck I'm gone do
I'm out this bitch man
