D.J. Paul - Notha n***a Car/Clothes lyrics

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D.J. Paul - Notha n***a Car/Clothes lyrics

(Lord Infamous da Scarecrow) That power can change alot of these n***as They step on alot of toes,up that way up the ladder But they don't,they forget what goes up gotta come down (DJ Paul) But all that's go change 1997 Prophet Posse You know what I'm sayin Loved by few,hated by many We in the motherf**ing house We can't be stopped You can get dealt with at the end though It's all good (Lord Infamous Da Scarecrow) You better bring dangerous toys My n***a!!!!!!!!!!!! (DJ Paul) If you wanna play with mafia boys Ya'll know where we located We ain't hard to find We nation motherf**ing wide b**h (Lord Infamous) We love the M and we ain't tryin to leave it For no n***a,nobody (DJ Paul) Staying real to it Representin to the fullest!!!!!!!! [Verse 1: DJ Paul] You ain't no real Black Haven n***a Finger facin forward but you ain't the one to trigger Even if you figured you was a bit bigger Thank you all that but ain't got a glove made of glitter n***a when we see ya we go test ya a** Bomb rushin to the curb and we go bless ya a** Me and Chris in the burban trying to catch ya a** It's all good 5 G's and we go set ya a** up Pitcure me purchasing ya tape cover wasn't good enough Don't like the scene is just like calling bluff Much as we try to keep it cool They all behind the back of me and my crew Glocks and Techs with the vest we be getting it on And we ain't gonna stop until the early morn So stop trading with this sh** and get ya on Three 6 Mafia,k**a Man I'm gone [Verse 2: Juicy J] Who is that fool who be talking that sh** Sayin he down,but he diss Triple Six If that b**h step he go get his wig split Blast smiff-n-wession 18 in the clip Ain't no gang bang he don't even set trip Grew up on koolaid,potatos,and chips Why playa hate when you know we legit Bank account fat and they riding the dick We you need dough ask ya dad for the sh** 20's and 10's like you shopping for bricks Got to payback all the cheese he done spent Studio time and the whole rest for rent [Verse 3: Crunchy Black] Juiceman I heard it's some n***as dissin But If they keep on dissin, then they momma gonna miss them This ain't no game n***a, here's my f**in opposition Man I'm gettin tired of you n***as actin just like b**hes And we go ride out [Verse 4: MC Mack, from k**a Klan Kaze] Them b**hes always ask me why do I call myself the Mack Is it because of those ho's I done broke Or is it the way my cheese just stacked But never the less it's time to wreck and check This buster that's livin out of state That's dwelling in by ways of Memphis Contemplate you must be fake Playa hate to the first degree You downing some n***as who down with me See salt mouth snails not M-town playas The k**a Klan Kaze gon watch you bleed So play me like a ho and a n***a like Mack Go stang ya stash When that b**h n***a call me out I'm empting my clip off in his a** So hold ya breath,n***a is you down My pimping is thicker than the sh** you talk Predestined to burn enternaly in hell contrast By the way ya a** done walk MC mother f**ing Mack My k**a Klan Kaze be having my back The Triple 6 Mafia ready to jack So get the next n***a clothes off ya back [Verse 5: Koopsta Knicca] So many days,them n***as layed and prayed in 12 ways Up on top of graves,resting place for heaven sake a soul to take Straight thru the woods,deep in them hoods you find no good Only b**hes and other n***as rise in the wrong mood So run them off the road before the gold hit ya headlight It's silent night,deadly night and guess who the sacrfice The signs of a Luntaic The Koopsta can't take that sh** Makes my brain and mind split It's something like a crucifix [Verse 6: Lord Infamous, AKA da Scarecrow] And I wish one of these punk a** n***as Would step up to the Scarecrow Beat a ho, f** a n***a up slow Cut his throat, puffin' on the Indo Throw him through a window With bloody clothes Full with bullet holes Lil dope heads can't hang but they gang bang Snd they slangin and the rangin Maintaining insane is how menace remain Just listen to the mother f**ing rain Wash ya blood down the drain b**h if ya itchin round me don't scratch Cause I'll pull out the axe Cut off ya nut sacs f**in with the devil mask Drop you into a batch n***as ain't no match Get drilled out where they at n***a better stick with smoking pot Cause the sh** he's sniffing in his snot Make him feel kinda hot Gonna end up in a burial plot Make me pull out the Glock And pop pop n***a get pop [Hook: DJ Paul] 2x Another n***a car,Another n***a clothes n***as be flodging on these videos But watch when that true gun fold