Kane - Wooo lyrics

[Mac] No Limit black sheep, played the back seat for months Stayed away from the Tanqueray, b**hes and blunts Still Mac n***a, ain't nothin changed Got the rings and the gold chains Now b**hes wanna know my whole name I penetrate em, then I disintegrate em I let the next n***a date em, cuz I don't hate em I spit voodoo, to the most hard to get hoes And at the end of the night, I rippin off clothes You f**in with the realest, from lyrical spillers To k**ers and dealers and cap peelers, and street guerillas From villians to chillers, we made millions And paid k**ers to protect scrilla So what the f** you talk about winners? You hear that word camouflage when you hear my name I represent the shell shocked cuz it's in my veins (No Limit soldier) is on my left arm, I took it in blood Throw your hood up if you a thug And all them n***as say [Chorus - Mac] (Woah!) You see a soldier on the streets holler (Woah!) You hear them soldiers on them beats holler (Woah!) Every time them soldiers speak holler (Woah!) [Kane & Abel] Load your weapons, grab your gats We sprinkle daily verbs over tracks Hit the chest like heart attacks When my lyrical hammer co*k back And leave bullet holes in your Bourbons and 'Lacs The only thing we give them hoes is a dick and a smack Gangstafied Kane & Abel you know the camouflage a**a**in Blastin and mashin, kidnappin and head bashin Razor blade slashin, the endo blunt pa**in For the cash and, woah it's bout to happen What you want (?) ugly with that 223 Hit em up in 3-d, now it's banned from tv n***as playa hated, I sho hated Spark the weed, cremated See this game, we regulated [Mr. Serv-On] n***a, you know me The n***a that spell everything out? (Nah) The n***a that'll run through your motherf**in set and bang Your hoe motherf**in out (f** yeah n***a) The n***a that's catchin these n***as and beatin em down Cuz they wearin Tanks, they don't know what the f** it mean n***a, that's the f**, that's about punchin your f**in mouth The n***a that'll tear the club up n***a, I don't give a f** if you bangin or slangin n***a when I put this Tank up n***a you get rowdy as the f** But if you think I was gonna leave this motherf**er without Spellin a line K-L you done lost your motherf**in mind Stop the track cuz these n***as don't know about my click black I down with the M to the A to the C It's the S to the E to the R to the V f**in with the T to the A to the N to the K And when I come through motherf**er and I raise my Tank up high You best believe some a you coward motherf**ers gon die [Chorus] [Big Ed] n***a what I claim? n***a I claim TRU! I hang with n***as that's k**as with TRU tatoos I got my name Big Ed from what I put between hips I got my name Assa**in from the way I empty out clips Wear the No Limit soldier, thuggin at heart Hittin n***as with throw aways when I toss em I break em apart n***as get your guns up if you rowdy And when Assa**in hit the stores, buy the album if you bout it Bout it [Snoop Dogg] Rowdy gangsta in this motherf**er, loco So I can come through and keep it TRU and do what the f** I Must I bust, I keep it TRU from the 'ginnin Snoop Dogg, the representer from Long Beach city A TRU tank dog, bank y'all in y'all face If y'all try to come close, y'all can't run this race I place my self above the stack With my homeboys Mac and sack you fact, we strap for strap We got your back, don't even flip out or trip out Or dip out, these n***as lookin at me strange My game to maintain, I let it go, I sell it don't tell it Y'all can't touch it motherf**er, or bail it, for real [Mia X] Biggest mama, drama two guns here I come Put down for my last son, the camouflaged one Mac the don, get your shine on cuz it's your time And I'ma get my rhyme on and spit like nine co*ked nine millimeters the ghetto diva Mia X-rated, golden platinum plated Face it, when they hear me on the K-L track All them n***as grab they head and jump back Hollin Woah cuz it's goin down like lips to dick I'm so tight I make you b**hes never wanna see the mic And spit, the matter lesson rhymes next to mine I'm mama superior, you hoes is fearin the Lyrical warfare I exhale Some fake b**hes like you name is Mel Battle anybody, hip hop or Glock On TRU I'ma close your shop, woah