JT the Bigga Figga - Gumbo lyrics

[Da Unda Dogg] Wha**up boy? [Mac Dre] What's happening playa, just sitting here, you know Putting together some of that ghetto gumbo, you know [Da Unda Dogg] Some motherf**ing gumbo? [Mac Dre] Yeah n***a, gum in the mother f** bo [Da Unda Dogg] Like that there? [Mac Dre] Yeah, I got my n***as in here, we finna put it down You know what I'm saying, real, real special You know? Check it out, like this here Verse1(Mac Dre) As I get to bustin' This introduction Of mind corruption And rhyme seduction I steal and fill brains With game and mo' thangs Like them dope thangs And what that hoe brang Creep on Crest streets Speak on fresh beats Hit the motel, and freak on fresh sheets And wet sheets, is the end result Been k**ing long co*k since ten years old See I blend this old-game with this new And ain't no telling what a b**h will do Now picture you In my position Steady getting sweated by the opposition Could you handle All this scandal And keep on stepping like boots and sandals My handle, is young Mac Dre Silky slim, is my A.K.A And you know that bay is my rompin' grounds I mean stompin' grounds But I like the way Rompin' sounds So I'ma keep it Romp related And if it ain't down with the romp, I hate it Verse2(JT the Bigga Figga) Well let me jump into the pot with all the hustlers and players Chop potatoes with Phillie faders,Knocking n***as with Tre Eights But now I See my n***as at the spot with the session Illegal product Then people plotted, rotted with no confessions Smith and Wessons Demonstrations with Fully Autos, actin' Conversations at the lab to keep the trackers trackin' Double backin' to the spot where all the money filter Keep it on the down low You never tell about your scrilla On the reala I breaks it down in all directions It's the Fillmoe players with the O And the Crest connection All in the session with my folks, You know they got the Dolo Hit the gateway tracks, like some fiends in a forward Volvo Bought a Bolo Seen Kelly, mashed off, and then we hollered Trailing Coolio and Mac Dre in a green Impala Getting cloudy The laboratorys just like a p**ny Got a patient Cousin Quinn is making the sh** get saramani Hella fetti We ready, steady, with all the bumbles Keeping it real with Dangerous Dame and Mac Mall in this f**ing gumbo Straight paper Straight fetti Straight gumbo Verse3(Dangerous Dame) n***as we pull n***as will say so We hit the strip from San Jose, to Vallejo Make more scrilla by the mouth piece Non-talking n***as don't know sh** about me Ignore 'em like b**hes Respect There ain't a hand out Like a sore thumb, fake n***as always stand out Player hater prayer Praying that I buckle everyday Ain't worth five cents, or my knuckles to the face But my burners ain't feeling no flesh If you n***as wanna test Let it jump and we could put the sh** to rest You thinking deeply But I be on service like a shark Consider me that hate, but see I serve you from the heart 'cause love loves me And hate loves me So what the f** you think? You can't f** with me You paying dopefiends, to put 'em to work But now your money's gettin' low While I be getting low with this wicked flow You got at me last night But I wasn't asking who was bustin' the trigger I'm blowing big bomb smoke, yelling "Nothin' a** n***a" My pimping ain't soft I'm taking no losses So why the hell do you persist to put me in crosses? You thought it was shackles, but then they was ropes And now they're spider webs I broke on you hoes I know what you're doing before you do it Got an outside plan, but in the end you're looking stupid Huh, yeah 'Cause Dangerous Dame got 'em riding on the freeway Actions speak louder I don't f** with he say-she say Think you got game? Never could you have it You n***as are crying wolf, while I'll be f**ing Jessica Rabbit Straight trading places But fool this ain't no dream You was happy as hell when you had me under your infra red beam Once again, get low for the East O Add a little recipe to the gumbo Verse4(Da Unda Dogg) Add me Mix me up Stir me in the pot with these n***as that fix me up See, back in '91, Coolio was the sh** So now we cooking a batch of gumbo and it ain't gonna quit My n***a the Bigga Figga, adding that spice so fool it's saucy You b**hes thinking you'll eat for free, well this sh** is costly So back up off me And recognize the sound is poppin' Beause we steadily droppin' dope, like the keys you coppin' Mother f**ers, they get to actin foul When they know they can't f** with the style Smile punk mother f**er, s**a, hating bustas Ain't no friends when it comes to ends, so you can not trust us But trust me You can not dust me, or try and bust me, dumbo Your a** gets heated in this pot of gumbo