Uncle Murda - Do Sumthin lyrics
[Uncle Murda - Do Sumthin lyrics]
I know Big, looking down on me
If he was still here
He'd tell Flex he proud of me
Yeah, I make Brooklyn look good homie
And I patiently waiting to kill Suge homie
I ain't even know Big but I'm mad son
Told French "Tell Diddy drop the bag son"
They probably like "You heard
What that nigga said?
When he come to our city that nigga dead"
When I come to ya city I be prepared
They breathe the same air as me
I'm not scared i'm from where they wake
Up drinking Hennessy
Your best friends'll smoke you
Before your enemies, uh
I did tried to hump your baby mother
I grew up around some ill motherfuckers
Wut don't kill me make me tougher
Seeing niggas serve crack to their own mother
Whoever don't like me, DO SUMTHIN'
Purp yourself up, DO SUMTHIN'
Me & my crew they ain't gotta DO SUMTHIN'
We everywhere you ain't gon' DO NUTHIN'
POP OFF or get POPPED ON
POP OFF or get POPPED ON
POP OFF or get POPPED ON
We gon POP like micro wave POP CORN
They say the South winning cause
They all get along
It done changed now none of
Them dudes don't get along
Gucci beefin' with Jeezy
Beefin' with Yo Gotti
Beefin' with Yung Jock
He beef in with everybody
Ross beefin' with Jeezy
Yo Gotti ain't feelin Plies
Jeezy & Bleu fell out
Just tell me who got the pies
They tried to smoke Rick Ross in his whip
Was it the GD's or Jeezy & the Crips?
If this ain't the hardest
Record on Flex tape
Then Ray J & Kim K ain't make a sex tape
I say what you won't hear from nobody else
Flex, who they mad at, me or theyself?
This is not what they expected
They thought this was gon' be
A strip club record
Instead I got niggas acting wreckless
In the strip club
Strippin' niggas with their necklace
Real recognize real
I don't get along with the fake
Oh I must be doing something right
Cause I'm the one everybody hate
Bite my tongue for no one
I be saying what the fuck I want
I'm ready for the problems
We can do it however you want
If he was still here
He'd tell Flex he proud of me
Yeah, I make Brooklyn look good homie
And I patiently waiting to kill Suge homie
I ain't even know Big but I'm mad son
Told French "Tell Diddy drop the bag son"
They probably like "You heard
What that nigga said?
When he come to our city that nigga dead"
When I come to ya city I be prepared
They breathe the same air as me
I'm not scared i'm from where they wake
Up drinking Hennessy
Your best friends'll smoke you
Before your enemies, uh
I did tried to hump your baby mother
I grew up around some ill motherfuckers
Wut don't kill me make me tougher
Seeing niggas serve crack to their own mother
Whoever don't like me, DO SUMTHIN'
Purp yourself up, DO SUMTHIN'
Me & my crew they ain't gotta DO SUMTHIN'
We everywhere you ain't gon' DO NUTHIN'
POP OFF or get POPPED ON
POP OFF or get POPPED ON
POP OFF or get POPPED ON
We gon POP like micro wave POP CORN
They say the South winning cause
They all get along
It done changed now none of
Them dudes don't get along
Gucci beefin' with Jeezy
Beefin' with Yo Gotti
Beefin' with Yung Jock
He beef in with everybody
Ross beefin' with Jeezy
Yo Gotti ain't feelin Plies
Jeezy & Bleu fell out
Just tell me who got the pies
They tried to smoke Rick Ross in his whip
Was it the GD's or Jeezy & the Crips?
If this ain't the hardest
Record on Flex tape
Then Ray J & Kim K ain't make a sex tape
I say what you won't hear from nobody else
Flex, who they mad at, me or theyself?
This is not what they expected
They thought this was gon' be
A strip club record
Instead I got niggas acting wreckless
In the strip club
Strippin' niggas with their necklace
Real recognize real
I don't get along with the fake
Oh I must be doing something right
Cause I'm the one everybody hate
Bite my tongue for no one
I be saying what the fuck I want
I'm ready for the problems
We can do it however you want