bizz loc - first 48 lyrics
[intro]
bang! bang!
ahh
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrah
who’s that!
eg west n-gg-
d bloc! it’s bizz loc
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrah
err!
bang! bang! n-gg-
[verse]
call me moshpit ’cause i’m wild as sh-t
all my conflicts involved knifes and sticks
and when i say sticks, i mean nines and fifths
death turned the left row ’cause i’m signed to crips
greedy motherf-cker like gimmie, gimmie, gimmie
money of all colour, somethin’ like pennies
the flow tight but i never rock skinny’s
keep the gun c-cked and i never rock jimmy’s
bet! say i’ll be the last to fall
these n-gg-s never made cash at all
d block n-gg-s, all blast metal
riding i ain’t talking ’bout gas pedal
money gettin’ long like a winner, pool stick
selling hard white, formed from a cool whip
b-tch be a ten and i’m holding two fifths
everybody strapped but they never do sh-t
send the real shooters, i don’t know if you is
n-gg- dealt me then he never knew bizz
one shot n-gg-s while you selling cubans
you was on bikes when i copped a new benz
reds so eye i’ma need a blue lens
how you winnin’ war ‘fore you do is lose friends
how you gettin’ dollas if you never use sense [cents]
i make dirty money so i know the true scent
f-ck the subliminals just get to the facts, g
if she loose then that b-tch gettin’ battried
you got shot, now you wish you can catch me
rats k!lling cats like itchy and scatchy
but a snitch will get merked ‘fore he turn rat
w-ssi’d up my third n-gg- with my third gat
just remember your block is where the birds at
f-ck boy tryna diss so i err that!
keep the guns on kotch for the on slaught
n-gg-s jaws drop, dome shots, off your hard tops
when the car stop, close range f-ck a long shot
snitches call cops, real talks ’cause i’m on top
tdot i’m the cream of the crop
diss me and i’ll come through and start steamin’ the glock
just copped a new fifth with a beam on the top
when i let the gun blow shots breezing the block
n-gg-s rate the kid ’cause they know that i’m wildin’
it’s d block!
motherf-cker i be holdin’ it down
i use clips but my left hand loadin’ the pound
three n-gg-s rode out now we all outta rounds
you all clowns, step you the next to be laid
shots wet, n-gg- leaving waves all in their brain
calling my name but don’t hate it’s part of the game
this the first 48 the rest is all for the chain
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