Russell Lee - All My n**z lyrics

(Chorus) [Russell Lee] All my n**z, get yo hustle on (get yo hustle on) And you punk police, needa leave us alone (needa leave us alone) See, I don't give a f**, and I don't play no games (and I don't play no games) Cuz all my n**z, they 'bout havin' thangs (they 'bout havin' thangs) [SPM] Nasty hoes, and goofy n***as Everybody tryin' they best to get wit us Ruthless friends, and a crazy family n***as try to sue me for a**ault and battery Crooked judges and expensive lawyers, I'm surrounded By muthaf**in' news reporters Cocaine snorters and drug importers If I leave the city, I break my court orders Was a kick door burglar, and teenage murderer My house be filled up with dope fiends' furniture Mathematical, attack like animal In my new whip, bangin' Barry Manilo Totally radical, my flow is magical She don't s** dick, then we ain't compatible Quick to shoot, foo, then go to his funeral Sippin' pharmaceutical, I feel so beautiful (Chorus) [Merciless] You mi vida be closed captioned (uh-huh) Been runnin' wild (yeah) Addicted to them streets, my criminal lifestyle A juvenile delinquent got no f**in' manners Smokin' wee 'till my eyes bleed (gettin' drunk and crashin') I swear my family tree, got roots that be rotten If you dare to step on my block proceed with caution (uh-huh) You see we all loc.s (yeah) clicked up we all folks Slangin' stolen merchandise crank shrm. and coke Quick to blast sh** I catch as good as skank nothing With the big black whip they at the po po service No second chance, when you dance with d**h As your body gets cold with hot slugs in your chest Merciless, no remorse, no pity See I come from a city where attitudes be sh**ty And nothin worse in this world, than a vato that's broke (uh-huh) Mad at the world and got nothing to smoke (Chorus) [Max Minelli] Maan with so much drama poppin' on my sets It's kinda hard bein' that n***a M-A-X, but I Somehow still run my sh** so proper You can spin this 'till your fingers turn the color or copper Keep a soviet chopper, layin' across my dresser The outlaw ain't crackin' under police pressure So, I'm wit whatever that's gon' keep my sh** flippin' Me and Hap. thug together like Gore and Bill Clinton From the streets gettin' smoked out and syrup on sippin' Cookin' more hoe chickens than Popeye's kitchen My old lady b**hin' and for 17 minutes I'm in the muthaf**in' game, y'all n***as still in the scrimmage That boy young Minelli keep a hustlers image Nice piece and chain, hundred fifty dollar tenis With drag and strings, pants saggin' man Cuz them n***as on my block 'bout havin' thangs (Chorus)