Solomon Childs - Pushing lyrics

[Intro: Solomon Childs] Yeah, See that's what's wrong with these stupid motherf**ers Huh, You know they ain't give you the good vest n***a sh**, We got sh** that can go through your fest You know the boss kept the good fest, Haha You thinking that that's some bullsh** You thinking that's just because the sh** done hit you That that's the impact from the bullets hittin the vest But nah that ain't that, That sh** done went through n***a ya bleedin, Somebody come pick this n***a up man Call the paramedics to come pick this n***a up man Uh, Uh, Yeah [Solomon Childs] I've realized for the money, I'll pull rips out intestins Who the f**'s playin, What the f**'s so funny Warrants, We got warrants for you n***as and we come'n To apprehend you n***a, Gone show up with sopeanas in your hood The Guerrilla, Sasquatch hoods Or have you esophagus bleed, With boat rope Around your neck in military knots, 'Til we see the goods Hip Hop's Frank Lucas, It's a cold world partner Surrounded by a bunch of hate'n motherf**ers That's gonna burn in a bed of karma, In cemetery fog Time em to a stake, Have em burn like a road hog They say the ghetto has got a thing for murder As well as extortion so 'til I die I'm authentic like my Daddy's burner Give me a reason [Chorus 2X: Solomon Childs, (Coco)] I'ma get my crook on, 'Til a n***a see that money Them boys is hungry. (Pushing, Pushing, Straight up extortion) [Solomon Childs] That's right, I gotta big mouth You feel violated, Then let the toasters blow Assa**in verbal, Versatile cosmo Blood on my teeth like Coojo Shoot a b**h n***a in the coolo Them water head n***as is food in the mountains Perpetrate'n the fraud on these streets, No clappin Just a whole lotta shoutin, Spit swagger So it can flow through the air like a Frisbee I'm here for good so ain't no need to miss me I'm into Southern belles and they love to kiss me Blomberg gone f** around and give me keys to the city Next door to Fifty in the Waldorf tipsy I put the scope in the infey, In a hood near you Scare who, I'ma do it like H.N.I.C. supposed to do [Chorus] [Outro: Solomon Childs] Hey Momma they shootin, Cover the babies Cover the babies Momma they shootin...