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beelow - can't fuck wit me lyrics

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thug addict:
i get down to low down and dirty
filthy if we’re buried
old nasty -ss
like they don’t bath the -ss, n-ggas
how the f-ck you think a b-tch, n-gga steal the green off gr-ss
like i steal the stank off sh-t
i’m a lyrical lunatic, paper stacked like bricks
i’m so cold i put a hole in the bottomless pit
spit rounds like a shoe shine, like luke from 2 live
i’ma pop it like firecrakers on the fourth of july
hey now, what the f-ck is said now
boy now, you got to slow ya roll ha
f-ck, f-ck ’em
f-ck ’em, f-ck ’em, i don’t trust ’em
go head on, what’s wrong, i ain’t gon’ do you nothin’
you talkin’ that sh-t about who ya wit’
but i’m on some old gangstafide, soldierfide, shaka zulu sh-t
exellent, terrific and fantastic
i’m a lyrical flyin’ trapeese with gymnastics with the tradgics
but you find your m-th-f-ckin’ mind like it was on that acid
i’m fire, found somewhere round the jumbalia
this city be mine m-th-f-ckaz wanna f-ck wit’ a n-gga that roll like
truckers
hit like br-ss knuckles then burn like rubber
bust ’em down wit a double like it ain’t no trouble
watch ’em drinkin’ drama tryin’ to rumble wit’ the n-gga that rap like an
anacinda
runnin’ through this b-tch like ernest bonner
hot like lava, bout to let the whole thing burn on fire

chorus 1: 2x (repeated with chorus)
ya’ll n-ggas can’t f-ck wit’ me
(ya’ll n-ggas can’t f-ck wit’ me)
better get ya m-1s and your artillery
(ya’ll n-ggas can’t f-ck wit’ me, wha)
ya’ll n-ggas can’t f-ck wit’ me
(ya’ll n-ggas can’t f-ck wit’ me)
you f-ck wit’ me and there’s gonna be some f-ckin’ casualties
(ya’ll n-ggas can’t f-ck wit’ me, wha)

beelow:
watch ’em pull that trigger back, c-ck it, pop it, and watch me roll
i’m flexin’ on these tracks like i was a dancer on solid gold
you thought it was some real sh-t partner now it’s time to get down
now you can hide if you want to but i’ma start bustin’ some rounds
got n-ggas tippin’ and tappin’, oh yeah they watchin’ they back
we some real -ss ballers not some gangstas on crack
get it how we live, thuggin’ muggin’ and plugin’ yo’ hoes
windows rolled up tight gettin’ gone on them mo’s
call him paranoid the way i catch them eyes on my face
heart beatin’ at a rapid pace when i walk up in the place
and ain’t no way i’ma let these ussy n-ggas k!ll me, steal me
i know you real n-ggas feel me
i roll with gangsta muthf-ckaz that’ll bust wit’ me
unload some slugs wit’ me, mess up all these thugs wit’ me
they still got love for me, and gives it up for me
it ain’t a n-gga in the game that could f-ck wit’ me

chorus 2: 2x (repeated with chorus)
(you can’t f-ck wit’ me)
(you can’t f-ck wit’ me, n-gga)
ya’ll n-ggas can’t f-ck wit’ me
better get ya m-1s and your artillery
(you can’t f-ck wit’ me)
(you can’t f-ck wit’ me)
(ou can’t f-ck wit’ me, n-gga
ya’ll n-ggas can’t f-ck wit’ me
you f-ck wit’ me and there’s gonna be some f-ckin’ casualties
(you can’t f-ck wit’ me)

beelow:
you comin’ at some brave m-th-f-ckaz and ballers for life
i’m rollin wit’ nothin’ but n-ggas who put in down we ain’t nothin’ nice
n-ggas payed to rap, payed to m-th-f-ck wit’ the mic
n-ggas come in here and say, “godd-mn that sh-t sound tight”
takin’ the industry by storm all you see in the spark
n-ggas shine so hard that we glow in the dark
n-gga we on aother level comin’ hard from the start
got ya shakin’ in ya boots and got ya grabbin’ your heart
ain’t no need for runnin’ now cause we layin’ it down
got the game sewed up our bullets sprayin’ ’em down
but we the brothers, you just can’t f-ck with us, this the sh-t that make
n-ggas go off
better get the brigade for the verbal -ss-ssin cause he bound to go off
somebody say slow the f-ck down you comin’ to quick
cause whether i’m rappin’ fast or slow, i still be the sh-t
i’ma break it down for you pay attention to this
ya’ll b-tch -ss n-ggas can’t f-ck wit’ my sh-t

da ganksta:
n-gga i be down and dirt strictly bout my ‘phetamines
to pushin’ game to pullin’ that iron and makin’ muthf-ckaz bleed
don’t f-ck wit’ me, behind my issue label me a k!lla
i’m pimpin’ the game and bringin’ th pain to make my pocket thicker n-gga
respect mine, abide your self in that water
i be comin’ with slaughter, neighborhood, stalker
n-gga ain’t no stopin’ this sick feelin’
blood spillin’ and seein’ k!llin’
drug dealin’ and cap peelin’
slappin’ n-ggas wit’ that ammunition when i’m on a mission
i’m drillin’ these n-ggas
pumps and ar15’s, and ak’s, and .45’s, and the mack 11 we’ll deal wit’ these
n-ggas
maintainin’ my status while i’m cheapin’ dozier
when it’s time to ride i’ma run through a n-gga wit’ my chrome soldier
n-gga you don’t wanna buck wit’ me

chorus 3: 2x (repeated with chorus)
ya’ll n-ggas can’t f-ck wit’ me
(ha, what the f-ck)
better get ya m-1s and your artillery
(ha, what the f-ck you gon’ do n-gga)
ya’ll n-ggas can’t f-ck wit’ me
(ha, what the f-ck)
you f-ck wit’ me and there’s gonna be some f-ckin’ casualties
(ha, what the f-ck you gon’ do n-gga)

- beelow lyrics

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