Various Artists - LB 2000 lyrics

(Techniec) Yo, I'm a M.C. n***a for real That's my label Lay it on the table And get jumped like cables I swear I'm gonna remain the sh** Let everything I'm on remain a hit, and bang the clip Don't wanna get hit, get out my lane and sh** f** you and who-ever you hanging wit Let's see how insane it get It's not like me to like me n***as jeopardise their safety to hate me Ride on safety Peep the whole thang like safeties My n***a, cause sh** been way off the hook lately Every little high cla** b**h wanna date me Hoes feel I'm real lucky (Can I drive your car?, you can trust me) I've got a dollar seventy five b**h, that's the bus key You must be thinking that I must be Some type of hook I read b**hes like books Keep my riches tight, look Slow down baby, don't rush These diamonds is for sure, hoe don't touch And these cowards is more than sick for Talking sh** I spit and k** n***as like orsenit My squad, k** n***as for flossing sh** Choose not to tug your chain They buck your brain If you ain't a hard rider You punk and lame Try to play the top dollar Get turned to change (Chorus) (Techniec w/ Soultre' singing in the background) I'm one hard-a** n***a I pull the Glock out I be the one everbody talking about So watch your mouth for '99 Everything mine, everything fine Yeah I'm one hard-a** n***a I pull the Glock out I be the one everybody talking about So watch your mouth I Hoo-Bang, like butane, from here to Ukraine (Techniec) I ain't know over four n***as Making over four figures Never met a gold digger All I did was poke b**hes sh**, that was the cla** I was in Now I might f** around and blast your kin, for no reason Give a hard look, smash 'em in You see this little .44 find the spot and splash your men Tried to hit Vegas wit them liquid chips, and cash 'em in n***a got big bready, flossed a little Now they think I'm big headed They way they talked about it, like a b**h said it Just wanted to show the homies that I, came up But they, hated, twisted and tried to f** my name up Don't wanna see a n***a have sh** I'm like f** it, bring the 9 at ya Fine apples, and plastics Explosives, double holsters for those toters The way I spit sh**, they are wide when I roll close (Chorus) I'm like what?, when he pointed to the T on my hat My Hoo-Bangin' medallion, Long Beach shirt after that As I went down, I rose up, showed him the gat Then asked him, "Now do you got a problem wit dat?" Sat down, put the mack down Steady looked at this coward Dead in his face, ready to crack down Guess no-one can help him, I backed down Get crowned and downed, young n***a I pack pounds I ain't trippin' no mo', I'm getting my dough Same n***a at the show, plotting on getting my hoe Like I give a hoot about the b**h Especially if I couldn't give a hoot about the b**h You a trick-a** n***a, and I doubt you rich Gang bang boy like you, gang claiming you're all goin insane It's a new age, new time n***a And I really predict this sh**s all mine n***a (Chorus)