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Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #1,288
Peak in subgenre #177
Author
Ryan Stinson
Uploaded
September 09, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.8 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Story behind the song
The Lox - "Fuck You"
Lyrics
[HOOK] x2
Why all these nigga's wanna fuss?
But nobody fuckin' wit' us...
Till somebody get touched... Our guns bust, right in ya'll mouf BLAOW
[HOOK]
My heat will eat ya' spots like dots in Pac-Man / Get back man, before I put cha' street in a black van
Goddamn, these crack bars, make lames act hard / Ya'll only toss thangs playin' games in ya' back yard
These rap stars, won't do nobody harm / Cuz I roll wit' dudes, not crews of bodyguards
The shotty sparks, leanin' out the passenger / Screamin' & blastin' ya', seems like a massacre
We after ya', get more top than a drop do / Fuck a drive-by, my guys stop by & pop you
It's not cool, wait for weight to shake & flip / If them pigs wanna slice, give em' bacon strips
I'll blaze then dip, sit in a two-seater / All my papers legit, I'm grippin' on cool heaters
To cool fevers, while ya thugs grind for sacks / I'm rollin' on dubs, wit' a couple dimes in back
[HOOK]
Got fiends feelin a tingle when we cookin' them packs / And I only count singles when I'm lookin' at tracks
So you, know how we maintain / Get blow and slang caine, there's no stoppin' us from plottin' on robbin' the freight train
It's time to take aim, lames need to hide quick / Shots cause memory loss, thoughts leave ya' mind quick
These thieves in my clique, grimy men who can rob / Head back to the crime scene just to finish the job
Whippin' down ya' block, in a box car / Swing the ox hard, if you don't sing & tell me where the rocks are
Move & get cha' neck split, for rumors bout ya' necklace / My goons the reason the police is losin' they detectives
Grill you for breakfast, my eggs over easy / The teks, depends on how well ya' set, receives me
I'm greasy, da underhand man worth the weight / Let my money wear rubber bands to help it circulate
[HOOK]
You'll get schooled, when we smashin' ya' blocks / Stick ya' for ya' shoes & the cash in ya' socks
Grabbin' them glocks, I'll do life at Riker's / Wanna fight? I got pipes that'll snipe ya' snipers
The hypes can hype us, fuck slices I want the full pie / Pull my, guns and view everyone as a bulls-eye
You could fly wit' the flocks, the hoods buyin' ya' stocks / Why cowards survive, but the good die in the box?
Tryin' to knock, dumb fucks wit' the rare fire / Don't get dumped in the trunk wit' the spare tire
I air liars, like those wearin' wires & cords / Get the metal put to you, like an ironin' board
We've fired before, on marks, narcs & actors / I spark, and turn ya' whole squad to target practice
The markets packed wit', kittens and plenty blood-hounds / Ya'll aint got put on yet, but cha gettin' shut down
[HOOK]
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