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4th disciple – fuck-u lyrics


(feat. born justice, shogun -ssason)

[4th disciple]
yo, yo
can’t get no love
no love, no love
gotta see us blood for blood out here
no love, no love
the war’s on, no love
ya heard? can’t get this sh-t no more

extra, extra, read the news, young clowns is h-ll-bound
from the universal sound, surround, comin down in yo’ town
musical compounds, brothas can’t wait ’til the sounds is laid down
to express the mentals, be adjectives and nouns
be bless for the know-how, to master and manifest ya own style
as we penetrate the scene, and run yo’ projects on ya iced guillotine
you wanna know what the scheme is? check out how we blend it
load up the a-tone, then append it, 1 gigabyte is recommended
to extinguish the thought of you ever makin more wack sequences
alas, that weak sh-t is finished, a total diminish
all wack mc’s, producer wannabes and b-tches sellin p-ssy on cd’s
the future prophecy is to bring back originality
within ya musical chemistry, wack -ss n-gg-z

[born justice]
yo, f-ck y’all b-tch n-gg-z
all y’all fake b-tch–ss n-gg-z that roam in the streets
fight the heat, i be ya seat
cuz blood drops h-t the concrete when n-gg-z meet
and words be the bullets on some heat-seekin hit
cuz nowadays when blood drips
it’s carved by the birds that f-ck the same d-ck
all the n-gg-z that could f-ck the same b-tch
c-ked out and sh-t, sodium, f-ck the whole click
run through ya town, sh-t sound make ya sick
modern world, while foreigners deserve what you get
the ward’ll penalize, that’s injustice
wh-r-s wanna serve, do the knowledge, sit and observe
venomous the darts by the clicks be the words

[shogun -ssason]
you b-tch–ss n-gg-z, dare contest
come against the gods and try to manifest
you b-tch–ss n-gg-z
dare to contest, come against the gods and claim rest
what? what? yo, check it

yo, yo, yo, yo, you can’t hold ya own sh-t down
so, how the f-ck you gon’ take my crown, clown?
you ain’t really ready to rumble with the gods
f-ck around and get scarred
with ya hands high, prepare to fight for ya life
we could box or throw rocks, save ya tough talk
i’m a southpaw and my style is unorthodox
i leave you coward n-gg-z tremblin
bend then i stomp a mud hole in ya -ss with my timbalands
you f-ckin pansies, got more sugar in ya blood than candies
with ya sober suit-suits and ya cute matchin groups
dancin around like prost-tutes, fatality
i be ya n-gg- from the south, b-tch
what? f-ck-u

[outro: all]
f-ck-u, u and u
cuz y’all n-gg-z ain’t sh-t
f-ck-u, u and u
cuz y’all n-gg-z ain’t sh-t
f-ck-u, u and u
get off my d-ck
and ya whole f-ckin crew
what? f-ck-u, n-gg-!
yo, you ain’t sh-t and ya whole f-ckin click
and ya mothaf-ckin b-tches
f-ck all y’all!
f-ck-u and u and u
f-ck-u, u, u and u
f-ck-u too, and ya whole f-ckin crew
f-ck-u too
cuz we sh-ttin on u
sh-ttin on n-gg-z
we be the best mc’s
what? [echoes]