BOO-YAA T.R.I.B.E.

BOO-YAA T.R.I.B.E. - On Me lyrics

rate me

(feat. Kurupt)

[Intro: Kurupt]

I ain't got a problem with nobody, right?

This is Young Gotti, but I got a problem with you

Cause you got a problem with me

Yeah nigga... keeping it real G'd up

Hitting niggaz like +Boo-Yaa!+ punk

What the fuck nigga!

[Verse 1: Ganxta Ridd]

I'm Ridd rhyming, I'm non existant

I'm just a daily, first to burn a convalescent

I'm the example of learning less

I'm spitting possible with two Wesson's, no questions

I'm the question with no guessing

I'm kind of stressing more pounds than two jurisdictions

These rappers don't want prohibition

I will convict him

I'm the West Coast redemption

Target, Coast Ridah, boost eye for an eye

My blood line banging until the eight frame die

I snuggle up the gun, full grip

Them eyes on my dinero, then analyze this

Real out the game, send them on their way to re-admit

Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E., ain't nothing changed, crowned and convinced

Pimp slap bitches and hoes and gangster slap pimps

And when I went through, it's that GANGSTER SHIT

[Chorus: Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E., Kurupt]

[Boo-Yaa] Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta..

[Kurupt] You know what I'm talking about

[Boo-Yaa] You get them fast then..

[Boo-Yaa] Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta..

[Boo-Yaa] This one's on me

[Boo-Yaa] Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta..

[Kurupt] Gangsta, right?

[Boo-Yaa] You get them fast then..

[Boo-Yaa] Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, gangsta..

[Boo-Yaa] This one's on me

[Verse 2: Kurupt]

G's, T's, where y'all at?

Riders, that's what y'all are (are)

I'm a for real front line folder

I fold front lines and then push they backs over

Mama ain't raised no busters (busters)

And mama ain't raised no punks!

We'll meet front to front

Left the parking lot nigga, see what y'all want (nigga)

Ten toes, ten fingertips

Niggaz don't really want to trip

They want to catch a nigga twenty deep (deep)

And catch niggaz thinking they could sleep (sleep)

Ain't no sleeping in a G zone nigga

BC rider and they every ball nigga

Boo-Yaa and Gotti the original, told y'all nigga

Yeah run through this motherfucker, G'd up huh?

G cut Timbs from the feet up huh?

[Chorus: Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. w/ minor variations]

[Verse 3: Ganxta Ridd]

They love it when I bang through

Sex them all like a truce, fade them all like a rendez vous

I'm hitting senders like I'm hitting switches

Lay bikes like a pipe, play a brick and then they all my bitches

Who's that?, y'all niggaz beef

It's that motherfucker cause I'm getting plot money

Envisioning balls, I'm wishing nuts and jaws

Fuck them trick fools that don't want us to ball

We street flavor, Blood we all involved

I'm all up in the guts quit ticking and crawl

Pass the free fall, fuck the free shows

Slap the hoe all, paws that explode

Motherfuckers die trying mode

Ganxta come on call me Ganxta Ridd

B.C.D.P. B.T. for sure

West West, East Side, .45 reload

[Chorus x2: Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. w/ minor variations]

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