We Don't F**k Wit' Dat-The Click
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[B-Legit]
Ya see I'm nuttin' but a player call me bad news bear
And everywhere a ni**a go you know I check a hoe there
And on my second time thru, you know how I do
I get some head, and some ends and I'm gone by 2
I got soundcheck b**ch, the shows is at 6
So when you coming in, bring your womanfriends
I got a few dogs posted at my telly
D-Shot, Tap, Young Mugz and Celly
And we gone try to tear the f**kin' roof of something
We was backstage smokin' and some hoes was thumpin'
A b**ch got mad cause she didn't get chose
Reached back like a pimp and slapped the hoe
Your ni**a went wild when he first seen that
Pulled out a sack and rolled one fat
We was back to the tale cause we bail on them boyz in blue
F**kin' wit this Click crew
And the worst things that happens when your out of the state
They lock a ni**a down and take away his dank
It makes me can't thank, I gets nervous and sick
Fiendin' for a motherf**kin' fix
[Chorus:]
[E-40]
Smoke and we will go
Puffin' on indo
So put that back
Cause we don't f**k wit that
[B-Legit]
I left Minnesota cause the spot was tired
Hit Louiville and the spot was fire
Old school sittin' on straight laced kicks
Reminding me of 1986
Fools burnin' rubber, f**k some switches
Niggas from the bay smokin' up on b**ches
B was on the gash, smashin' yo
Hoes passin' out cause there to much smoke
Gary, Indiana, b**ch gone in a minute
I let you hit my w**d and it's straight up shittin'
In your draws, Guess jeans and all
And then you had no one, give E a call
But he called back and wasn't f**kin' wit you
Cause hoes down South know good voo-doo
F**k around and have your a** sprung like Eddie
Period blood mixed in your spaghetti
And if I could I would roll a vega
From Hillside, Cali to the Get Low Playaz
You niggas light it for me and I'm pass it to Quinn
And let it out when you get to chin
[Chorus]
I'm finally hittin' Cali after 3 weeks gone
Than ran out of boomb and I'm glad to be home
Now who on my phone, Dante or Bruce
I be there in a minute to do what we do
See, it's a triviant game, cause we gone smoke
And blow big dubs from young body and all
And I can't give a f**k if you're drunk or smoked
Imma give you a 5 we gone light the ...
In to the ... told the sh*t on the street
Some of tha homies that be restin' in peace
The sh*t won't cease till I see D
I know my homie got a fat blunt for me
Pine apple juice, malibu rum
1501 get your dickhead done
When it gets like that, you know I gots to f**k
Or maybe kcikback and get my dickhead sucked
I won't ask for much, just a** and guts
And brand new speakers for my oldschool cut
A big fat sack of that dohja
So I can get smokin' like I'm 'posed to
[Chorus]
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