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young buck - stomp that snitch lyrics

(feat. hi-c & lil murda)

[voice:]
g unit south
n-gg-s know whats up
its about to go down in this b-tch
everybody in this motherf-cker
you know what i need you to do?
walk that b-tch
walk that b-tch
yeah hey yo f-ck that
all my n-gg-s
stomp that b-tch
stomp that snitch
stomp that snitch
g unit south

[verse 1: young buck]
i’m sittin’ real tall in my ’69 drop
the superman chevy i’m too clean to stop
make ’em lean and rock with it
i know i’m the sh-t
my police b-tch take care of the tickets that i get
i used to ride spinners but too many n-gg-s got ’em
this phantom cost a quarter mill i could do without ’em
i think i’m about to pop a pill get on that patrone
i made enough today i can leave the block alone
these hos love a n-gg- so they playin’ on my phone
she said i didn’t speak when i seen her i did her wrong
i told her i was high the kush had me in the zone
but call me when you home
and ain’t got no clothes on
mink on the floor, and chinchilla on the seats
theres wood on the door and theres room for a freak
see my clique kind of small cause i never did forget
that when a n-gg- was broke ya’ll didn’t give me sh-t
b-tch

[chorus: young buck]
i know i’m the sh-t you ain’t got to tell me
so when i’m in the club ho, tell me what you see
i’m a g
motherf-cker i’m a g
i’m a g
i’m a g
motherf-cker i’m a g
i’m a g
we don’t even dance homie all we do is this
make them b-tches hate every chance that we get
i’m a g
motherf-cker i’m a g
i’m a g
i’m a g
motherf-cker i’m a g
i’m a g

[verse 2: lil murda]
see i don’t sweat a b-tch and i don’t love hos
but i got to give mama my number before the club close
i told her “i’m a thug” she said “i love those”
a razor in her purse, and i got my snub nose
drink in my cup, heat tucked on my waistline
i wish a motherf-cker would try to take mine
how you want to act?
n-gg- we could make it crack
we ridin’ no seatbelts yeah but we strapped

[verse 3: hi-c]
b-tch 94 ruger is that motherf-cker gray?
yeah, with the rubber grip look how i spray
a wicked -ss n-gg- from ten-a-key
the rims say “whats up?”, pants sayin’ “lick me”
i swing through the hood give my real n-gg-s love
diamonds lookin’ like michael jackson’s glitter glove
i’m hungry for this paper so i guess i’m fiendin’ grub
deuce in my boot when i ball up in the club

[young buck:]
do it like a g
n-gg- do it like me
do it like a g
n-gg- do it like me
do it like a g
n-gg- do it like me
do it like a g
n-gg- do it like me
yeah
g unit south in this motherf-cker
hey hold up n-gg-s
and n/a
all you n-gg-s thats still sittin’ on them little bitty -ss wheels
shorter than a midget on his knees
you bullsh-ttin’
step your game up
and you know what?
you n-gg-s out there,
you know n-gg-s be clean, sittin’ on twenty sixes
hey yo n-gg-s put some money under your arms too
what you workin’ with?
g unit south
get money!

- young buck lyrics

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