Havoc - Air it Out lyrics

[Noyd Talking] Somebody gon'(na) die in this b**h We about to "air it out" [Noyd Verse 1] 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 midack (mack) on Broadway and Housten Right in front of thousand and put it in efidack (effect) I'm a pay! [Havoc - Hook 2X] 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 Gon'(na) show you what a gangsta's (a)bout [Noyd -Verse 2] 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 . . .) [Havoc - Hook 2X] 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 Gon'(na) show you what a gangsta's bout [Noyd - Verse 3] See we don't back down we go pound for pound Tech for tech right on the block emptying clips Buck something leave motha f**as hitting the deck And then one by one motha f**as be dead The word is out, Noyd is out East coast, Weat 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 wuth the bangers and eat n***as food When I'm starvin' I'm robbin' that's how it is thun 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) [Havoc - Hook 2X] 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 Gon'(na) show you what a gangsta's bout