Fiend - Strap Up lyrics

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Fiend - Strap Up lyrics

[Mr. Serv On] I like to get that wild thing, street or city Huh? What ya'll bout? Huh? What you bout? You bout some gangsta sh**, I'm bout some gangsta sh** They bout some gangsta sh**, we bout some gangsta sh** You bout some gangsta sh**, I'm bout some gangsta sh** They bout some gangsta sh**, we bout some gangsta sh** Ya'll n***as call your self k**as But ya'll don't know the f** a k**a is Oh I represent my block and I don't give a f** about his I done been in the Bronx with Fat Joe and Big Pun And ain't no b**hes on theirs And I done roll through Watts where the mutherf**a k**in And never motherf**in stop Or in St. Louis, where a n***a break your muthaf**in' neck And step in your chest n***a that's what the f** I call respect They ask me why the f** I write these type of words Go to Memphis n***a and ask every n***a Why the f** you steal so many quarter birds on the curb Better yet, go to Chi Town and ask every n***a in the Y 100's Friend Town or Madison Ave., why the f** they wanna put they pistol down Cause we soldiers n***a, with out a f**in life And I don't give a f** what city your from n***a put em up cause it's on tonight Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers b**h I'm from Houston, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers b**h I'm from Dallas, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers b**h I'm from Atlanta, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers b**h I'm from Miami, and I don't like ya You bout some gangsta sh**, I'm bout some gangsta sh** They bout some gangsta sh**, we bout some gangsta sh** You bout some gangsta sh**, I'm bout some gangsta sh** They bout some gangsta sh**, we bout some gangsta sh** [Fiend] I, from the gumbo, where some for, smoke till they humble And when we rumble, and tumble, we strap till the sun go Ratta tatta pow, on my gun go, learned it from my uncle Get more then one shottie, maybe bout a trunk full Our love goes, duckin po po's, hoes on the go go Takin no no's, don't let the eyes close, with seven zeros Gotta hero, and sista, me, and only me Combat ready from the midwest to the California streets n***a's that only take the heat, bring loud and foster beats Florida, Chi Town, to the Magnolia Leaf If you wanna keep your teeth, and have respect when you speak Represent your clothes and war thats hard as me [Mr. Serv-On] Strap up my tennis shoes, get choppers b**h I'm from Baton Rouge, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers b**h I'm from Louisville, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers b**h I'm from Birmingham, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers b**h I'm from Mississippi, and I don't like ya You bout some gangsta sh**, I'm bout some gangsta sh** They bout some gangsta sh**, we bout some gangsta sh** You bout some gangsta sh**, I'm bout some gangsta sh** They bout some gangsta sh**, we bout some gangsta sh** Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers b**h I'm from Streetport, and I don't like ya Strap up my tennis shoes, get my choppers