Scarface - Git Out My Face lyrics

[Chorus] Fake-a**-ni-ggaz (NEED TO GET OUT MY) faaaace Fake-a**-ni-ggaz (WON'TCHA STAY OUT MY) faaaace (ALL YOU FRAUDULENT-ASS ni**aZ NEED TO GET OUT MY) faaaace (ALL YOU BEGGIN-ASS b*tchES NEED TO GET OUT MY) faaaace [Scarface] News gossip laws gossip boppers boppin hoes beg Foresake me cause they b**hes always be off in my bed Always f**in with they feelings, b**h I'll f** you with my head I don't love you and you don't love me so motherf** what Donna said I got paper never spend it I ain't never seen a night that I felt a need to pay a b**h unless she was a dyke Lickin p**y left and right, bringin b**hes by my place Jack me off and s** my dick and let me skeet off in her (faaaace~!) Blackberry start to buzzin, guess her husband askin questions Wonderin where she at cause she just called her cousin, mad and fussin I'm laughin cause I'm f**in, slappin a** and titty s**in Please your nipples, puttin that thump in her a** and she ain't strugglin [Chorus] [Scarface] You ain't gangsta, youse a busta, quick to say that you a hustler But realistically, you a b**h to me, sweet as pie but down to Custer Wanna cry when n***az touch ya, wanna hide cause n***az bust ya Got the copies of them statements you was makin motherf**er All you fake-a** n***az get the f** out my (faaaace~!) 'Fore I make it rain and shower you with copper from the A K, 47 that's gon' be my tool Make me clack it, I start actin like a motherf**in fool (yeah) Fool, you know me, I've been down since '85 Sellin dime for dime, doublin up my paper every time I live the life of crime, ghetto life from day to day Made me throw up both my hands, now get the f** up out my (faaaace~!) [Chorus] [Scarface] Thought I mighta hung it up for good, got tired of ridin beats for free, said f** it, I'm gon' go on and coach a team Play golf and smoke my weed, poke her every other day Do some groups and keep these haters out my motherf**in (faaaace~!) But this sh** ain't go the way I planned, I'm caught off in the cross And if I leave they won't respect the South cause n***az soft Talkin 'bout what's in they mouth, talkin 'bout they cars and house And that ain't what we all about, we out here workin in a drought 'Bout that paper, 'bout that cabbage, out here hustlin 'til you grab it Pimp a pimp, you silly rabbit, youse a bun without a tablet So yo' intellect connect is comin short it out of space Catchin bricks and weed and ace so get the f** up out my face