Little Brother - Threatening lyrics
[Little Brother - Threatening lyrics]
Uh, I done told these little bastards
To stop fuckin wit us ay, yo
I done told these little cocksuckers
To stop fuckin wit us
This is that grown man ay, yo
I done told them little motherfuckers
To stop fuckin wit us
Y'all boys must be a little nervous
Little Brother
I put the mic to ya
Take a couple publishing rights from ya
Tell ya momma she can write to ya
Nah that ain't right to ya
But 'Te is sick of your ailments
My rhyme is so blinding
They're calling me brailliant
Cause you ain't box wit a
Cold veined cannibal ox nigga
That be in the chop shop when
We stop to drop scriptures
Cardiac arrest your style
I mean have a heart to heart wit ya
I swing like hard hitter cause you boring me
So God bless the day that Khrysis recorded me
And Big Pooh, he always got my loyalty
9th is king of his beat machine
Now that's mechanical royalty
Phonte ain't scared of you boys
I'm taking care of you dog
Better get these little niggas from round him
At whatever the cost, spit terrorist bars
Nigga, who you think Saddam was rockin
To when they found him?
This is mixtape shit that I spit
Feel the pain a of nigga gettin his beast on
In my Nissan switchin four or five lanes
Drunk with ambition
Designated to drive you motherfuckers insane
Bitch!
I put them boys in a box
Like they tried to box us
Let the audience watch
Rapper Pooh fight back unorthodox
Pump hit's out the shop like
We moving the rocks
Eat a cock to them naysayers
Who wish that we didn't record
So at night they pray for it
Cocksucker, you gon' pay for it
I'm talking butter baby all day
You gotta churn no it
Didn't stop with The Listening
Or Foreign Exchange
Get Connected with the best who
Be doing it mayne
From the grapes out in Naples
To the shores in Maine
To Noize out in Denmark who
Be doing his thang
Everybody gon' remember the name
It's like that
Despite that, niggas wanna hold me back
I Tom Petty verses over the track son
You got a hundred and fifty problems
This is one fifty one, yeah!
To stop fuckin wit us ay, yo
I done told these little cocksuckers
To stop fuckin wit us
This is that grown man ay, yo
I done told them little motherfuckers
To stop fuckin wit us
Y'all boys must be a little nervous
Little Brother
I put the mic to ya
Take a couple publishing rights from ya
Tell ya momma she can write to ya
Nah that ain't right to ya
But 'Te is sick of your ailments
My rhyme is so blinding
They're calling me brailliant
Cause you ain't box wit a
Cold veined cannibal ox nigga
That be in the chop shop when
We stop to drop scriptures
Cardiac arrest your style
I mean have a heart to heart wit ya
I swing like hard hitter cause you boring me
So God bless the day that Khrysis recorded me
And Big Pooh, he always got my loyalty
9th is king of his beat machine
Now that's mechanical royalty
Phonte ain't scared of you boys
I'm taking care of you dog
Better get these little niggas from round him
At whatever the cost, spit terrorist bars
Nigga, who you think Saddam was rockin
To when they found him?
This is mixtape shit that I spit
Feel the pain a of nigga gettin his beast on
In my Nissan switchin four or five lanes
Drunk with ambition
Designated to drive you motherfuckers insane
Bitch!
I put them boys in a box
Like they tried to box us
Let the audience watch
Rapper Pooh fight back unorthodox
Pump hit's out the shop like
We moving the rocks
Eat a cock to them naysayers
Who wish that we didn't record
So at night they pray for it
Cocksucker, you gon' pay for it
I'm talking butter baby all day
You gotta churn no it
Didn't stop with The Listening
Or Foreign Exchange
Get Connected with the best who
Be doing it mayne
From the grapes out in Naples
To the shores in Maine
To Noize out in Denmark who
Be doing his thang
Everybody gon' remember the name
It's like that
Despite that, niggas wanna hold me back
I Tom Petty verses over the track son
You got a hundred and fifty problems
This is one fifty one, yeah!