Yeah-h-h-h, one two one two
Yeah, okay, now
You know who we got up in this bitch
M.O., M.O.B.B.B.
[Chorus]
(Boy) Lil' shorty wop (wop) young thuggin' in the street
Ever front on him (yeah) that's how you get popped
(Girl) Lil' shorty wop (wop) fatty and she hot (hot)
Young thuggin' in the street, givin' up the crotch (crotch)
And we don't give a f*ck (f*ck) like you don't give a f*ck (f*ck)
Them hammers'll buck (buck), ashes ashes dust dust
Death toll addin' up, them razors we let 'em rust
Them haters we clap 'em up, countin' cash, that's us
Catch me in that GT Coupe, with the flat screen drooped
in the driver's seat souped, cause it's a Bentley
When I pass by, have you stuck, S.U.'s, black 'em up
Twenty-four, black rims, tires gotta fatten up
Whips, go to AutoSport, stash spot, sorta for my mascots
that pop off, buck buck
Sick 'em Fido, let the car idle, I ain't never been there
Shit can happen have yo' ass, disappear in thin air
Shit real, y'all not, get robbed in a car lot
You bitch you call cop, you snitch and that's off top
My biscuit is gonna pop, whether you like it you not
ever gonna play me motherf*ckers get shot (boy)
[Chorus: x2]
Yo yo yo yo dunny you comedy with tragedy nigga
You go 'head, keep smilin', we ain't laughin 'my nigga
We dead serious, you niggas is livin jokes
We don't game around, these bullets'll eat through your bones
why-why-why-yeah, that's right you heard me nigga, reach for your chrome
When you see us, better bleed us off the top of the dome
Meanin' you better get to squeezin' cause our reason is gone
Meanin 'that shit is out the window, we won't give it a thought
And we don't give a loud motherf*ck about who you are
What's your set that you rep, you can get 'em involved
(*BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM*) is all you hearin' when you go at the Mobb
(*BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM*) is all I'm sayin' if you tryin' to talk
We what you would call, niggas that talk it walk it and live it
Your music is not "Murder," you an Infamous mimic
You what we would call, niggas who suck dick for a living
Get off our balls, or we'll take chances for prison
[Chorus: x2]
Mobb Deep - 08 - Shorty Wop Lyrics
Mobb Deep - 08 - Shorty Wop Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Yeah-h-h-h, one two one two
Yeah, okay, now
You know who we got up in this bitch
M.O., M.O.B.B.B.
[Chorus]
(Boy) Lil' shorty wop (wop) young thuggin' in the street
Ever front on him (yeah) that's how you get popped
(Girl) Lil' shorty wop (wop) fatty and she hot (hot)
Young thuggin' in the street, givin' up the crotch (crotch)
And we don't give a f*ck (f*ck) like you don't give a f*ck (f*ck)
Them hammers'll buck (buck), ashes ashes dust dust
Death toll addin' up, them razors we let 'em rust
Them haters we clap 'em up, countin' cash, that's us
Catch me in that GT Coupe, with the flat screen drooped
in the driver's seat souped, cause it's a Bentley
When I pass by, have you stuck, S.U.'s, black 'em up
Twenty-four, black rims, tires gotta fatten up
Whips, go to AutoSport, stash spot, sorta for my mascots
that pop off, buck buck
Sick 'em Fido, let the car idle, I ain't never been there
Shit can happen have yo' ass, disappear in thin air
Shit real, y'all not, get robbed in a car lot
You bitch you call cop, you snitch and that's off top
My biscuit is gonna pop, whether you like it you not
ever gonna play me motherf*ckers get shot (boy)
[Chorus: x2]
Yo yo yo yo dunny you comedy with tragedy nigga
You go 'head, keep smilin', we ain't laughin 'my nigga
We dead serious, you niggas is livin jokes
We don't game around, these bullets'll eat through your bones
why-why-why-yeah, that's right you heard me nigga, reach for your chrome
When you see us, better bleed us off the top of the dome
Meanin' you better get to squeezin' cause our reason is gone
Meanin 'that shit is out the window, we won't give it a thought
And we don't give a loud motherf*ck about who you are
What's your set that you rep, you can get 'em involved
(*BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM*) is all you hearin' when you go at the Mobb
(*BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM*) is all I'm sayin' if you tryin' to talk
We what you would call, niggas that talk it walk it and live it
Your music is not "Murder," you an Infamous mimic
You what we would call, niggas who suck dick for a living
Get off our balls, or we'll take chances for prison
[Chorus: x2]
Yeah, okay, now
You know who we got up in this bitch
M.O., M.O.B.B.B.
[Chorus]
(Boy) Lil' shorty wop (wop) young thuggin' in the street
Ever front on him (yeah) that's how you get popped
(Girl) Lil' shorty wop (wop) fatty and she hot (hot)
Young thuggin' in the street, givin' up the crotch (crotch)
And we don't give a f*ck (f*ck) like you don't give a f*ck (f*ck)
Them hammers'll buck (buck), ashes ashes dust dust
Death toll addin' up, them razors we let 'em rust
Them haters we clap 'em up, countin' cash, that's us
Catch me in that GT Coupe, with the flat screen drooped
in the driver's seat souped, cause it's a Bentley
When I pass by, have you stuck, S.U.'s, black 'em up
Twenty-four, black rims, tires gotta fatten up
Whips, go to AutoSport, stash spot, sorta for my mascots
that pop off, buck buck
Sick 'em Fido, let the car idle, I ain't never been there
Shit can happen have yo' ass, disappear in thin air
Shit real, y'all not, get robbed in a car lot
You bitch you call cop, you snitch and that's off top
My biscuit is gonna pop, whether you like it you not
ever gonna play me motherf*ckers get shot (boy)
[Chorus: x2]
Yo yo yo yo dunny you comedy with tragedy nigga
You go 'head, keep smilin', we ain't laughin 'my nigga
We dead serious, you niggas is livin jokes
We don't game around, these bullets'll eat through your bones
why-why-why-yeah, that's right you heard me nigga, reach for your chrome
When you see us, better bleed us off the top of the dome
Meanin' you better get to squeezin' cause our reason is gone
Meanin 'that shit is out the window, we won't give it a thought
And we don't give a loud motherf*ck about who you are
What's your set that you rep, you can get 'em involved
(*BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM*) is all you hearin' when you go at the Mobb
(*BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM*) is all I'm sayin' if you tryin' to talk
We what you would call, niggas that talk it walk it and live it
Your music is not "Murder," you an Infamous mimic
You what we would call, niggas who suck dick for a living
Get off our balls, or we'll take chances for prison
[Chorus: x2]
Writer: ALBERT JOHNSON, KEJUAN WALIEK MUCHITA
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group