Mr. Sisco - Yeah I Rob 2013 lyrics

[Verse 1: Buddah Jones] Now you f**ing with some n***as that'll come kick in your door Put that pistol in your mouth and rape your b**h right on the floor This is what the f** you get if you mistake me for a ho We don't play that sh** around my way in case you didn't know n***as grew up in the slums and we got nothing to lose Tie your a** up by them strings on your motherf**ing shoes I promise you my n***a you won't even make the news Cut your fingers off your dick and snatch your f**ing dentals too Now you n***as think you f**ing bigger But not bigger than my trigger Talking all that f**ing sh** and too geeked up off all that liquor Now you got a n***a pissed My pistol got the f**ing hiccups Light your a** up like a Swisher T-shirt with your f**ing picture f** you n***as talking it but how you got the phone b**h I'm chopping bodies up and letting 'em ride off in my trunk And them cannons hit like 12's the way them motherf**ers thump So before you step this way just make sure this is what you want [Verse 2: Mr. Sisco] Murder, murder, murder, murder k**, k**, k** f**ing with me, drag your a** to the field, field, field We Keep it real, real, real You a p**y with a deal f**ing with us, you'll get k**ed And believe that we for real I'm Illuminati, dressed in all black for your a** Black ski mask Black n***as jumping out that black van' n***a this is backlash from all you n***as talking trash Best believe we coming first, f** n***as coming last Switch the tempo with the quick fo' When I'm spitting motherf**er better get low If he don't wanna get ghost Make his crew comatose Sending shots to his head like a motherf**ing toast If he don't wanna roasted Better sit back and get toasted n***a we won't go for the ho sh** Cause f** n***a we focused No joking, b**h I'm smoking Never slipping, always on my f**ing pimping On my grind, gotta get it You could be on Fox missing Snatch your soul, like abortion While I'm sipping on some Tim Hortons Blew it out of proportion This is just a friendly warning [Verse 3: Gabriel Prentis] n***a get your a**ed robbed, f**ing with the Mafia Talking all that talk my n***a what the f** is stopping ya' Get ate up like Tilapia, gun sound like the opera All my n***as on the rise, they know us like we popular Beat your a** with them hands, rob your a** for them grands Hit up the weed man just to cop a couple grams Riding with my sword, n***a make my day If I see that you got what I want all you hear is the gauge Click clack, hands go up, give me that All that, black mask with my goons Pap' pap', one wrong move, lay flat On back, all black, in your tomb Not about that f** sh**, all about them bucks b**h But I ain't from Milwaukee, better keep your sh** tucked b**h Just pulled another B&E I'm off the weed and that O.E Damn I got the block hot, but my name ain't Weezy Better lock your door, cause tonight could be the night Get robbed for everything, including your life