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l.mont - don't cross me lyrics

(hook)
don’ttttt you cross that line
ha, ha , whoday, aye!
don’ttttt you fuuuck with mine
ha, ha, whoday, aye!
don’ttttt you cross that line
ha, ha , whona, huh!
don’ttttt you fuuuck with mine
ha, ha, whoday, aye!

(l.mont verse)
heres the reply, when dem lines get cross
clips, bullets get pull, den dem slugs get tossed
ya rather disrespect jesus on da cross, faya face get a bullet and ya family, take a loss
pay attention what i’m tryna get across, if ya feel ya life worth it
ya better respect law, this is a warning i’m the 1st one to draw
he took shots to the head, think he got it from da bar
f-ck with me, i k!ll ya pappy, ya nanny, ya granny, whole mammy mother f-ckin family
so if ya love’em, you should not come near me, fear me, feeell mee…
and fear is not ah option when you gangsta, any problems with ya w-nkstas
get my young n-ggas to spank ya, n like a deli let ya meet show
and if they locked, i send them all hittas through the free folk

(bty young’n verse)
my souljas still at war, my thugs still strugglin
the junkies still fiendin, so da drugs still smuglin
still ryding fa rudy, fa dallas, and fatty, and i’m still on parole
still smokin grand daddy,he don’t want to cross that line
cause they be on dat f-ck sh-t, still rockin 501’s, i don’t wear no truck fit
cause they be on some duck sh-t, but ya know homie ah real n-gga
grab dat tommy out the closet, ain’t no tommy hilfiger
got da bricks in the attic, got da straps in the duffles, b-tch i’m all about my chips like some zaps and some ruffles
n-gga use to get a rush off busting hollow after hollow
now money over everything, da model that i follow
n it ain’t no mo, buying shots now, its bottle after bottle
just like no mo f-cking skeezers nah, its model after model
got a barbie like nicki, with a body like buffy
put on dem percocets, she ride dat d-ck like a huffy
and n-gga

(l.mont verse 2)
beautician style, the glock do face lifts, which one of ya b-tches want ya hair did
blair witch project, body in da woods, consequences fa… f-ckin with a hoodlums hood
hooded up all black, with a chrome gat, move in like platoons
where you and ya goons trappin at, ah murda dance
we pop you p-ssies with da guns, two left feet, call it da graveyard boogie
dis far from just talk, what ya seen don’t talk, outlines white chalk, when them lines get cross
i got da devil in my pocket, da reaper in my hand, i sold my soul to be da boss
ya know it cost to be da man, murda jehovah’s witness, he see god soon
subtracting the black robe, he’s in god courtroom
the time it take fa you to make the mistake, to criss cross the line
ah be the same second in da time, i’ll fill ya lil -ss with iron, huh

- l mont lyrics

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