Luni Coleone - Watta lyrics

[Brotha Lynch] I'm the hardest n***a you never heard of And I'm a pro when it comes to these tools a four four When it comes to these raw venemous spit send him his dick In a wool shoe package, peel back his cap wid this automatic Cold hefty and black sh** I make a rapper disappear like magic It's Siccmade, all the way to the motherf**in' casket And six feet deeper, get these heaters right off the lips I stack chips and I, sip these litres on the hips It's some sh** that'll split ya wig You can't spit enough sh**, that'll get ya big Get the gig, you pay him first then I'll lay him next n***as be weak just like latex, cheap as Tampax I walk through the room wid a handful of anthrax Shakin' n***as hands, makin' n***as dance like Paula Abdul when I pull out the tool Ya kids get napped when I run out the school Ya nig did that, it's the motherf**in' Lynch Take a long barrel four four and run up in ya b**h Real sh**, cause it turns me on and What kind of sh** do these nerds be on and What kinda clips should I put in this chrome four What kind loopty-loop ya on Pa** me the Newport and let's get it on like Marvin I've been starvin' creep through the trees like Tarzan Ya meat we carvin' [Hook] It's watta, watta, and ya know I'm thirsty And even though it hurts me I stay blood thirsty for watta, watta Take it how you want n***a So make it how you want n***a (x2) [Luni Coleone] You punk n***as want war we make sh** happen When it comes to the money d** scrappin' and cappin' I'm a veteran and I bet when I pull my thang You hoe n***as run faster than cut out segas We some spiritual lyrical individuals n***a I ain't fearin' no negro we leavin' bullet holes n***a When a soldier bow down we leave him alone Tape his tail to his a** cheek and send him on home I'm a motherf**a n***a ain't you heard of Co-le My music it use n***as like a guard against Kobe Hittin' hard like Shinobi, you n***as don't know me I throw 'em harder than Drew breathes And shake 'em like police I mean who tryna take it there let me know We leave him cryin' like when a kid get a Nintendo Coleone, I'm known to stay high as a kite And shoot notes to X-Loc keep my cuz alright Hook [Brotha Lynch Hung] While you be internet thuggin' I'll be in ya set muggin You be in the bathroom tuggin' cause you can't get lovin' I'll be in the last room pluggin' while you in the front room drippin' I bust nuts on ya livin' you come in the back room kissing So don't trip cause I'm harder than you Just like every motherf**er that's a part of my crew Gimme a carton full of Newports and a metal junt from the Midwest And I'ma disappear and come back the sickest n***a you ever met What happens next n***a, whatever happens We pull techs n***a, whatevers crackin' We pitbulls in a backyard full of poodles And I'm foamin' at the mouth like Kuja Put blood and guts in yo spaghetti noodles I got problems in the head Got ya lookin' for slugs, well it's probably in the bed Got me lookin' for love all in the wrong places I'm tasteless and I chew to the bone homie Now, look at ya faces it's watta