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u.n.l.v. - 211-187 lyrics

chorus: {u.n.l.v.}

211s at night 187s in the day light
n-gga we just don’t give a f-ck
211s at night 187s in the day light
n-gga we just don’t give a f-ck

verse one: {lil’ ya}

n-gga’s be try’na rep and some fool’s
be try’na buck but lil’ ya that type of
n-gga that just don’t give a f-ck
but nathan and if you hatin’ then
you’s a hater but i’m straight out that three
so how the f-ck you gonna fade her
soldier with a heart made of steel
like my n-gga b, i handle business on the real and
then i chill make my rounds, pick up my car from
my b-tches cuz i be hittin’ ’em regular like
dre be hittin’ his switches
clockin’ my riches as i stroll through my hood
puffin’ on a blunt givin’ love where it’s all good and
for you n-gga’s who ain’t go no love
i ain’t got no love for you chumps
cuz i’m a smoke ’em and choke ’em
like a philly blunt
yeah, i’m gettin’ my grove on
i’m ready to move on
to another level rob some n-gga’s or
whatever i got big nut’s
i got a big heart like i said it’s been that way
since f-ckin’ start, you know me from my
f-ckin’ crew, you know what i’m bound to do
i got a pit, i’m ready to spit
i’m ready to serve to uhh!

chorus

verse two: {yella boy}

i even got’s the boogy bangin’ at’cha
grab my zookie if i have to
daze you up like daz
i don’t give a f-ck like kurupt
i’m dismantlin’ mc’s that come against me
me and the tecster in broad day light
we comin’ to do thee f-ck it
of course, i’m a show no remorse
don’t mean the boss, i never forget hoes

verse three: {tec-9}

i’m gettin’ skiet like that, i’m slippery like ease wax
i chop ya down, like a disciple, with my riffle
as if a white boy you disrespected my a-gender and
called me a n-gga

verse four: { yella boy}

i’m dumpin’ you b-tches out like boss hog
i don’t give a f-ck about y’all
you don’t know what i would do to you
but i know what’cha will do to you
i would serve you, i would f-ck clean over you

verse five: {tec-9}

y’all know that i’m back
like brand new wax on brand new cadalac’s
i’m mourin’ i’m yawnin’ plus i just
lost my equipment bag

verse six: {yella boy}

sweatin’ like a zoo-loo to do you
it’s best you f-ckin’ scram
i’m a champion i’m dumpin’ on ’em
i’m actin’ a motherf-ckin’ donkey on ’em

chorus

verse seven {lil’ ya}

i’m bout to do a jack
i got on all black
in my hand lies a tool that
i call my mack
it’s like my best friend cuz when
i spin the bin it don’t get jammed
bullet’s chargin’ like a ram
you bet’s believe when them hollow’s hit’cha
you goin’ in pocket b-tch, you better drop it
one n-gga tested my nut’s he had the nerve to flex and
on his arm was a rolex, he flinched for
his gat that was stashed in his suit coat
i had to show him, i had to f-ck over him
stunt a f-ckin’ l!ck of that hit and it was on
then i put the key’s on the lab and
n-ggas started pushin’ slab’s
my pocket’s started gettin’ swole
my knot has thickened
that’s how it is when
n-gga like ya, is flippin’ halves to
quickers, quarter bird’s, to bird’s
keep a brew full of rock’s
cuz my b-tch need a serve
uploadin’ kilt, puttin’ in clip’s at the
same time, beatin’ you n-gga’s down
with my bat if i ain’t got that iron
leave yo mama cryin’ why you shot my only son
gave him three to the head, smoke a blunt now i’m done
give me a bag of that h-lllo, and snort it up my nostril
drain got me loose as a goose and i wanna shot
we put in work, doin’ dirt everyday
it’s twelve noon, let’s go get somebody
to buy some yae, can’t be no miner
got to be a big tymer, because i”m down to
pill a couple of cap’s and get these n-gga’s out they snap’s
cuz i’m

verse eight: {tec-9}

you b-tches don’t know the f-ckin’ size of this sh-t
i’m on the rise with this sh-t
see tommorow, the f-ckin’ clip b-tch
2-2-6 my boy’s comin’
mag-11 hollow tip’s n-gga
better start runnin’
when i start comin’ up the block
with my glock like a mad man
in a mad rage face is caught on the front page
let them b-tches catch me down bad
with my 12-gage

verse nine: {yella boy}

you despise, why i’m up in disguise
now you paralyzed plus you realize
to stop playin’ with me
my cl!ck is quick to let them bullet’s fly
cl!ck ya f-ckin’ self ya b-tch you
for you get downed

chorus

we droppin’ ’em stop playin’ with me
stop playin’ with me

- u n l v lyrics

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