Da Headbussaz - Gone Be Sum sh** lyrics

[DJ Paul] Now what you b**hes wanna do What you b**hes wanna do, talk some sh** Get your a** beat black and f**ing blue By the new dangerous crew da f**ing HeadBussaz They turned us down for weed in they hood Cause they ain't trust us, them n***as nothing but bustaz They knew we had them skull bussaz, in our back pockets Ready to rob and bust them, you hear me I gotta dust them, off like some old books Cause they f**ed around with some old crooks I'm talking bout King, I'm talking bout Fiend I'm talking bout that n***a Juicy on the f**ing scene We got these auto's with them quieter's twisted at the tip For no sounds, nothing but silence when these b**hes rip And rip a b**h head clean from they gold chain Cause these boys had them ga**ed up like propane I bring the pain like ten Taliban's on a {plane} And we ain't quitting until your muthaf**in heart lose, n***a [Chorus] If you ain't from Memphis Tenn., it's gone be sum sh** They some wild muthaf**as, who you f**ing wit If you ain't from New Orleans, it's gone be sum sh** They some crazy muthaf**as, who you f**ing wit If you ain't from Chi Town, it's gone be sum sh** They some gang banging n***as, who you f**ing wit If you ain't from ATL, it's gone be sum sh** They some scrappin' muthaf**as, who you f**ing wit [Juicy J] What you know bout the muthaf**in North, North In the hood n***as drinking, smoking Newports All them old school players bumping Too $hort If they got that fire weed, they put in two torts And them k**ing drug dealers, mane they stay in court For that slanging or that k**ing or some child support If my n***a go to jail, we gone hold a fort Riding around bumping system with the cd distort You can call me mister d-o-p-e with the Glock then I p-o-p Don't have my change, it's a d-e-a-d Written on your forehead, don't f** me We keep artillery, you might can't see Hiding in the bushes or a scope in the tree So don't be playing with that n***a Juicy They might find your body somewhere overseas [Chorus] If you ain't from Houston, Texas, it's gone to be sum sh** They some syrup shipping n***as, who you f**ing wit If you ain't from Mississippi, it's gone be sum sh** They some rope hanging n***as, who you f**ing wit If you ain't from Alabama, it's gone be sum sh** They some head busting n***as, who you f**ing wit If you ain't from Cashville, it's gone be sum sh** They some robbing muthaf**as, who you f**ing wit [Fiend] Hands down, this for them scams And that are saying by the pound Tilt the scale, we just playing Laying they a** in the ground Gram baggers, coke handlers and lb movers Yeah man, pack your sh** Cause I can see right through ya To these bustaz, drug smugglers That's under the world All for the love of the girl f** up my nadir We swirl, quick dust Making off with the furl You step on it three times And do your thang on the world Uh huh only talking what I used to Y'all do what you do Highly grow one seven And we messing with that voodoo Got colors yellow down to the doo doo You wouldn't short, we could moved you Stick you like some glue too Serve your a** like the lunch line Point blank you want something of mine On the block nothing to find, slide to the alley Don't need the work badly But fill prescriptions gladly, you heard me [Chorus] If you ain't from Arkansas, it's gone be sum sh** They some kidnapping n***as, who you f**ing wit If you ain't from Dallas, Texas, it's gone be sum sh** They some Mexican n***as, who you f**ing wit If you ain't from Miami, it's gone be sum sh** They some dope pushing n***as, who you f**ing wit If you ain't from St. Louis, it's gone be sum sh** They some pimp juice drankers, who you f**ing wit