scarface – git out my face lyrics
[chorus:]
fake–ss-ni-ggaz (need to get out my) faaaace
fake–ss-ni-ggaz (won’tcha stay out my) faaaace
(all you fraudulent–ss n-gg-z need to get out my) faaaace
(all you beggin–ss b-tches need to get out my) faaaace
[scarface:]
news gossip laws gossip boppers boppin hoes beg
foresake me cause they b-tches always be off in my bed
always f-ckin with they feelings, b-tch i’ll f-ck you with my head
i don’t love you and you don’t love me so motherf-ck what donna said
i got paper never spend it i ain’t never seen a night
that i felt a need to pay a b-tch unless she was a dyk-
lickin p-ssy left and right, bringin b-tches by my place
jack me off and suck my d-ck and let me skeet off in her (faaaace~!)
blackberry start to buzzin, guess her husband askin questions
wonderin where she at cause she just called her cousin, mad and fussin
i’m laughin cause i’m f-ckin, slappin -ss and t-tty suckin
please your nipples, puttin that thump in her -ss and she ain’t strugglin
[chorus]
[scarface:]
you ain’t gangsta, youse a busta, quick to say that you a hustler
but realistically, you a b-tch to me, sweet as pie but down to custer
wanna cry when n-gg-z touch ya, wanna hide cause n-gg-z bust ya
got the copies of them statements you was makin motherf-cker
all you fake–ss n-gg-z get the f-ck out my (faaaace~!)
‘fore i make it rain and shower you with copper from the a
k, 47 that’s gon’ be my tool
make me clack it, i start actin like a motherf-ckin fool (yeah)
fool, you know me, i’ve been down since ’85
sellin dime for dime, doublin up my paper every time
i live the life of crime, ghetto life from day to day
made me throw up both my hands, now get the f-ck up out my (faaaace~!)
[chorus]
[scarface:]
thought i mighta hung it up for good, got tired of ridin beats
for free, said f-ck it, i’m gon’ go on and coach a team
play golf and smoke my weed, poke her every other day
do some groups and keep these haters out my motherf-ckin (faaaace~!)
but this sh-t ain’t go the way i planned, i’m caught off in the cross
and if i leave they won’t respect the south cause n-gg-z soft
talkin ’bout what’s in they mouth, talkin ’bout they cars and house
and that ain’t what we all about, we out here workin in a drought
’bout that paper, ’bout that cabbage, out here hustlin ’til you grab it
pimp a pimp, you silly rabbit, youse a bun without a tablet
so yo’ intellect connect is comin short it out of sp-ce
catchin bricks and weed and ace so get the f-ck up out my face
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