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Dirty - What It Is Lyrics



Dirty - What It Is Lyrics




[Mr. G-Stacka]
Ok
Niggaz quick talk behind my back like that's suppose to hurt me
They don't want no real beef cause them niggaz actin' turkey
They ain't got the guts to bring it to my face
They'll rather come sideways and sneak it on a tape
But I'ma tell ya just how you put 'em in their place
Next time they tryin' to hate, tell them niggaz that they fake
I let 'em know, they don't want it they can get it any day
But they'll rather hide and be quiet 'bout what they say
Approach me with that bullshit, I bet I'll clear the way
Unload a whole full clip... of fifty out the case
See, most of y'all rookies, but I promise I'll spray
I ain't playin' with you pussies, where you stand is where you lay
A lot of niggaz talk shit, till you find out where they stay
Then them niggaz act bitch when you shootin' up the place
"Keep my name out your moth", You heard up on the last track folks
It's either that or get your jaw cracked and your back broke

[Chorus x2]
When you see me, nigga tell me how you fill - f*ck-nigga
When you see me, nigga tell me what it is - f*ck-nigga
Stop holdin', nigga get off your chest - off your chest
Stop holdin', nigga get off your chest - off your chest

[Big Pimp]
I'm real f*ck-nigga, I ain't never been a hoe
And if I was f*ck-nigga, be a man and let me know
In my face, why you talkin' shit behind closed doors
Meet my place, 4900 Cyprus Cove
Get the pressure off your chest, let it show my nigga
And better yet, when you see me throw them blows my nigga
If you real and I got bread, I owe you f*ck-nigga
You say you trill come take like a soldier f*ck-nigga
Man it's funny...how everything they got to say (got to say)
Ain't revealed till them Dirty Boyz ride away (ride away)
Certain niggaz got a problem, but I'ma solve it
When I snatch the pistol grip out my baby mama's closet
I'm so nice, the way I pop that 9' and the 'K
But more precise, the way I cock that 4 on side your face
You'd think I'm wrong if a nigga up and run in your house
Runnin' your tongue, don' got a lot of niggaz shot in the mouth

[Chorus x2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

[Mr. G-Stacka]
Ok
Niggaz quick talk behind my back like that's suppose to hurt me
They don't want no real beef cause them niggaz actin' turkey
They ain't got the guts to bring it to my face
They'll rather come sideways and sneak it on a tape
But I'ma tell ya just how you put 'em in their place
Next time they tryin' to hate, tell them niggaz that they fake
I let 'em know, they don't want it they can get it any day
But they'll rather hide and be quiet 'bout what they say
Approach me with that bullshit, I bet I'll clear the way
Unload a whole full clip... of fifty out the case
See, most of y'all rookies, but I promise I'll spray
I ain't playin' with you pussies, where you stand is where you lay
A lot of niggaz talk shit, till you find out where they stay
Then them niggaz act bitch when you shootin' up the place
"Keep my name out your moth", You heard up on the last track folks
It's either that or get your jaw cracked and your back broke

[Chorus x2]
When you see me, nigga tell me how you fill - f*ck-nigga
When you see me, nigga tell me what it is - f*ck-nigga
Stop holdin', nigga get off your chest - off your chest
Stop holdin', nigga get off your chest - off your chest

[Big Pimp]
I'm real f*ck-nigga, I ain't never been a hoe
And if I was f*ck-nigga, be a man and let me know
In my face, why you talkin' shit behind closed doors
Meet my place, 4900 Cyprus Cove
Get the pressure off your chest, let it show my nigga
And better yet, when you see me throw them blows my nigga
If you real and I got bread, I owe you f*ck-nigga
You say you trill come take like a soldier f*ck-nigga
Man it's funny...how everything they got to say (got to say)
Ain't revealed till them Dirty Boyz ride away (ride away)
Certain niggaz got a problem, but I'ma solve it
When I snatch the pistol grip out my baby mama's closet
I'm so nice, the way I pop that 9' and the 'K
But more precise, the way I cock that 4 on side your face
You'd think I'm wrong if a nigga up and run in your house
Runnin' your tongue, don' got a lot of niggaz shot in the mouth

[Chorus x2]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Wyclef Jean, Pras Michel, James Brown, Barry Gibb, Robin Gibb, Maurice Gibb, Bobby Byrd, Ronald Lenhoff, Russel Jones
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

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