Trillville - Man Up lyrics

EYYYYYYYYY! ["You don't wanna do dat!" is heard in the background of the whole song] [Trillville ad-libing in background] YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! [Chorus] All that, talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that sh** Talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that sh** Talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that sh** Talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that sh** Man up motherf**er, man UUUUUUUP Man up motherf**er, man UUUUUUUP Man up motherf**er, man UUUUUUUP Man up motherf**er, man UUUUUUUP [Don P.] Now eve'body wanna f**in have they own label Wouldn't on the first sh** to bring to the table They in they own fantasy somethin like a fable Handicap situations all disabled I shut 'em down, like a computer Cause ain't nobody f**in wit the super producer Coreleone [?] (yea), Trill town representatives (fu*k Don P!) Man some of y'all too sensitive [*gun noises*] But ya right, fu*k me! But ain't 'nam day you gon touch me Talkin bout, "Don P, why you buckin? Man you need to chill out get to the money" .....I already got it! and I'ma Trill n***a I handle ALL my problems Besides, I'm all about respectin I'ma man, before anybody checkin [Chorus] [Lil' Atlanta] What you starin at? This ain't no free show You gon make me co*k back, hit ya a** in the door You don't wanna do dat, hear dem thangs clit-clak Goes in ya thru the front, comes out thru the back Come and make my night! Love to talk but hate to fight Was you a b**h? I was a b**h, it don't go away ova night Man up motherf**er man up! I told you once before motherf**er stand UP! [Chorus] [Dirty Mouth] Now if you n***az keep playin, you gon make a n***a tear a hole Right thru yo chest, is yo flesh, I can see yo soul You don't wanna DO dat! I'ma hit you wit a bat Talkin all dat sh** n***a and I'ma hit you wit da gack Seventeen times out da barrel on my .45 Four plus five equals nine goin thru yo spine Sit yo a** down hoe! Make a move you gotta go Erase you off da map and beat yo a** at yo own show Ain't playin no games wit you lames when it comes to gangsta sh** Throwin up my middle finger, grabbin on my own dick n***az thank they slick take yo pick, which one you WANT bullets flyin thru yo house or goin straight thru yo door? Make yo a** choke wit different strokes of my hand movements Say dat your a G, in these streets, man you gotta prove in Next, time I see you talkin talkin sh** I'ma rearrange yo mouth and put yo a** in a ditch, b*tch [Chorus] ["You don't wanna do dat!"]