Juvenile - Cock It lyrics

[Juvenile] Uh Huh, Uh Huh Mic check one, two it's Juvenile coming through Uh Uh c'mon, c'mon [Verse 1] Who the man? if I ain't it n***a can't claim it I can take a small name and make it famous I reason with no one homie I got fa sho cliental I'm a XL out here in the streets or lyin in jail I'm quick tempored please limit ya words I will send you in a hurry down south with the splurge it's kind of hard to understand me cause I speak with a slur but my guns speak a language all the people done heard streets sense gon' keep me in it for a minute you f**in with a general salute me lieutenant I'm not too particular with lies I look e'm in there eyes say a pray before you die this ain't about me this about somethin thats spoke you know runnin with a n***a while you cuttin his throat oh them loose lip b**hes get hung from a rope you know bagged up and throwed off the side of a boat, oh! [Chorus - repeat 2X] co*k it, take berrata then pop it give me that out ya pocket cause the best can't stop it East coast wha**up, Down south wha**up West coast wha**up, Mid West wha**up [Verse 2] Keep on makin ya laws, I'm a keep breaking them I can move a package in any city I'm stationed in if ya son touchin my sh** you better pray for him bust his head and catch me a flight to where the hatreds been I ain't the only solider they got alot of these all of these children make me know who dropped alot of seeds I smoke till my eyes shut stay strapped so if you think about sneakin you better wise up hit you with the traqualizer let it fill ya head paralyze you have ya screamin "I can't feel my legs" regardless of what a n***a or a b**h done said the shell around ya get poked like eggs I'm from the M-A-G-N-O-L-I-A my b**hes gonna listen to what the hell I say you n***as gonna respect it or get out my way or the coroner's gonna happen to ya all time sake [Chorus] [Verse 3] You old n***as on ya last limb move over let some n***as who really want it come cash in suppose to get k**ed for co*k blockin in cells solider bet you can't get no chronic up in hell fresh off the porch where the stash spot I'm hungry tryna get the same respect that my Dad got got the chopper cut the wieght, nice in the stash box n***a be on paper so himmed up from the bad cops how the hoes be actin hopin for child support I need to snatch me a coat and endorse it with dope I ain't even gotta speak on it I put my G on it n***as gon' let us get that whenever we want it beef is beef whenever the sh** occurs if it's real it's gon' resolve into metal for sure but hit the right one he ain't respectin my bad my only satisfaction will be poppin your a** [Chorus - till end]