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40 glocc - n.w.a (juelz santana, 40 cal, the game diss) lyrics

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[intro]
ay
press record cuzz
i gotta get it in
it’s a lotta bullsh+t i gotta get off my chest
(you know i’m the real n+gga witta attitude, right?)

[verse]
one to the, two to the, three to the, four to the, o
g is for ghetto the rest for the loc
i gotta couple situations i’ma approach
[?] non familiar faces and some you know, i’m from the west (west)
i represent the coast, so many carrots on my neck i’m like a vegetable
i’m ’bout to dip through they set and see what they do
my harlem b+tch give me spins like a record pool
all i know is the jimmy and my d+ck is [?]
santana got dropped and can’t cop no jеwels
a member of your crеw, slip and got beat up by loon
i’m that needle out the haystack ’bout to bust your balloon
spill that ink on your chest like my name cartoon
splash (splash)
splash (splash) get your t+shirt soaked when that car go past
ya hop on out finish him off and mash
tell his mom he died under the circumstance
your whole clique is monkeys in a circus act, i’m in that trap pitchin’
i don’t kick it with you rap n+ggas, spittin’ 300 bars, ain’t sayin’ sh+t up in a sentence
your only fifty cent away from a head shot, the paramedics pumpin’ ya chest without doc (n+gga see me in club)
and get knock
you got the b+tterfly tat from fondling wit his pops
my hood rat got [?] tatted upon on her thigh, she got that good cat
i wonder why
i p+ss on n+ggas, and sh+t on mics, if we was kids on the block i take your bike
i’m the prime example of what these suckers don’t like
i’m on that g+ngb+ng sh+t, bring a gun to a fight
your weak homie, when you speak on me, you make me laugh
take the 40 out your name put a cal in ya ass, it’s the unit
[outro]
infa+infa+infamous
your weak homie, when you speak on me, you make me laugh
take the 40 out your name put a cal in ya ass, it’s the unit
infa+infa+infamous



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