BIG NOYD

BIG NOYD - Air It Out lyrics

rate me

(feat. Havoc (Mobb Deep))

[Noyd Talking]

Somebody gon'(na) die in this bitch

We about to "air it out"

[Verse 1: Noyd]

I don't know what convinced you to mention the mobb

Must of been bent straight of the alcohol

Once you crossed that path, fuck with that cash

Quick, fast have a sick clique get up in that ass

Gold Pee nigga with the cracks in his ass

Pretty Tone homey with the mack in the grass

They buck you then fuck your boo where she shit at

Then we profit from it, and spit it on the tridack (track)

Letting the world know you a bitch ass kidat (cat)

And how your own hood disrespect you where you live at

They be hey all day how you let him do that

Noyd and his clique I think you better get at

But don't gas your dog he ain't built for that

I will spit ‘em all right through his fitted kiddap (cap)

Jump out with the midack (mack) on Broadway and Housten

Right in front of thousand and put it in efidack (effect)

I'm a pay!

[Hook x2: Havoc]

The word is out, Noyd is out

And he about to Air it out

Oh y'all think it's a game, better bring those things

He Gon'(na) show you what a gangsta's (a)bout

[Verse 2: Noyd]

Ayo...Nigga better back up off please

When you got tough, huh? thun you lost me

You never grind enough you're a Mr. Softy

Truly the Ruger will kill you softly

Then we see then yeah who the boss be

Smoke your little clique like a bag of the Hersey

How the fuck it's all good, Nigga the hood is thirsty

Peep the big six and you want to test me

Gon' make my gun spit, y'all niggas kill me

Gon' have my gun, sitting on your ear piece

Having your bitch screaming please don't kill me

I don't owe you shit and I ain't your daddy

I don't own the six I own the "Navi"

And I'm sitting deep this nigga sweet like candy

You niggas want beef you know get right at me

QB nigga that's why you can't stand me (You know cause . . .)

[Hook x2: Havoc]

The word is out, Noyd is out

And he about to Air it out

Oh y'all think it's a game, better bring those things

He Gon'(na) show you what a gangsta's bout

[Verse 3: Noyd]

See we don't back down we go pound for pound

Tech for tech right on the block emptying clips

Buck something leave motha fuckas hitting the deck

And then one by one motha fuckas be dead

The word is out, Noyd is out

East coast, Weat coast down to the dirty south

Catch anybody flossin' I'm airing it out

With the nine hollow tips man I'm spittin' ‘em out

Listen out cause I'm emptying out for that bling

That watch and that chain put a bullet in your brain

Not a thing I'm a gangsta this is what I do

Go to war wuth the bangers and eat niggas food

When I'm starvin' I'm robbin' that's how it is thun

If I'm lying I'm flying word to everything I love

Don't get it twist nigga cause I twist niggas cap back

That QB gutter shit bringing it bidack (back)

[Hook x2: Havoc]

The word is out, Noyd is out

And he about to Air it out

Oh y'all think it's a game, better bring those things

He Gon'(na) show you what a gangsta's bout

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