Big Noyd - Back Up In This b**h lyrics

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Big Noyd - Back Up In This b**h lyrics

Somebody gonna die in this b**h We about to air it out I don't know what convinced you to mention the Mobb Must of been bent straight of the alcohol Once you crossed that path, f** with that cash Quick, fast have a sick clique get up in that a** Gold Pee, n***a with the cracks in his a** Pretty Tone homey with the mack in the gra** They buck you, then f** your boo, where she sh** at? Then we profit from it and spit it on the tridack (Track) Letting the world know you a b**h a** kidat (Cat) And how your own hood disrespect you, where you live at They be hey all day, how you let him do that Noyd and his clique I think you better get at But don't gas your dog, he ain't built for that I will spit em all right through his fitted kiddap (Cap) Jump out with the midackon Broadway and Houston (Mack) Right in front of thousand and put it in efidack, I'm a pay (Effect) The word is out, Noyd is out And he about to air it out Oh, y'all think it's a game, better bring those things He gonna show you what a gangsta's about The word is out, Noyd is out And he about to air it out Oh, y'all think it's a game, better bring those things He gonna show you what a gangsta's about Ayo, n***a better back up off please When you got tough, huh? Thun you lost me You never grind enough you're a Mr. Softy Truly the Ruger will k** you softly Then we see then, yeah, who the boss be Smoke your little clique like a bag of the Hersey How the f** it's all good, n***a, the hood is thirsty Peep the big six and you want to test me Gon' make my gun spit, y'all n***as k** me Gon' have my gun, sitting on your ear piece Having your b**h screaming, "Please don't k** me" I don't owe you sh** and I ain't your daddy I don't own the six I own the Navi And I'm sitting deep this, n***a, sweet like candy You n***as want beef, you know get right at me QB n***a, that's why you can't stand me (You know 'cause) The word is out, Noyd is out And he about to air it out Oh, y'all think it's a game, better bring those things He gonna show you what a gangsta's about The word is out, Noyd is out And he about to air it out Oh, y'all think it's a game, better bring those things He gonna show you what a gangsta's about See, we don't back down, we go pound for pound Tech for tech, right on the block emptying clips Buck something, leave mothaf**as hitting the deck And then one by one mothaf**as be dead The word is out, Noyd is out East Coast, West Coast, down to the dirty south Catch anybody flossin', I'm airing it out With the nine hollow tips, man, I'm spittin' em out Listen out 'cause I'm emptying out for that bling That watch and that chain put a bullet in your brain Not a thing I'm a gangsta, this is what I do Go to war, with the bangers and eat n***as food When I'm starvin' I'm robbin' that's how it is then If I'm lying, I'm flying word to everything I love Don't get it twist, n***a 'cause I twist n***as cap back That QB gutter sh**, bringing it bidack (Back) The word is out, Noyd is out And he about to air it out Oh, y'all think it's a game, better bring those things He gonna show you what a gangsta's about The word is out, Noyd is out And he about to air it out Oh, y'all think it's a game, better bring those things He gonna show you what a gangsta's about