KOOL G RAP - Foul cats lyrics

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[Intro/Outro: x2]

Foul cats scheamin up the setup

Tryin to leave me and my cream wet up

Two in the head, leaded up

Call the coroners to make they bed up

Infrared shit from neck up

Before they got to lit the tec up

[Kool G Rap]

It was a setup, my nigga got hit, they blew his chest up

The hollow tips ripped his vest up, son is messed up

and blessed up; call my cast up -- it's time to dress up

Four-fifth and Smith-n-Wessed up, ready to press up

and fuck their nest up, the enemy is Hennessey to sessed up

Actin up, hit my motherfuckin man up

Never again will he stand up, yo Big Jan hook the plan up

Pull the masks, pull the van up

These niggaz tryin to hit the fam up; these small times cats

Yo fuck that, I can't see that, where them niggaz be at?

Where they hang at? Where they live at? Where they slang at?

(Aiyyo Son one is a known cat, he walk around with the chrome gat

This hoodrat know where the nigga home at)

Well here's a quarter baby, go and phone that

This motherfucker bout to get his shit blown back

His whole dome clapped, we cock back the gats and started cruisin

Up the boulevards and avenues-n, I'm short fusin

and two biscuit usin; mad hot but, not in the mood for losin

We hit the strip pickin up clues and

we on the heels of this nigga shoes and

out the blue when, we see the chick the nigga screwin

Pushin his whip with the ice cuban

Hemmed her up sweet, put heat to her wig piece, the zig piece

to this nig's beefs, this bitch named Charise

from East New York, listen bitch, you better talk

Or get your whole frame surrounded, with white chalk

Pulled the rat in back of the van, bitch we don't want you

we want your man, you understand?

The hoe said, "Please, I got his house keys, the nigga got

five keys and mad cheese, a hundred G's"

Lie to me bitch you gettin one of these

Four-five C's in both knees, she said, "Honestly I promise G

I'm not lying," then the hoe started crying

We hit the road me and my niggaz flying

to the crib in Jackson Heights, the nigga live three flights up

He type buck, but I ain't givin a fuck

Grab his bitch up, make the hoe go first in case

the nigga buck, open the door up, and put the stunt in front

Then we all started creepin, he stretched out

up on the sofa sleepin, yeah me and my cats standin there

just peepin, money's about to get laced

My nigga Ty threw a glass of whiskey in his face

Big Jan ready to blaze the place; he on his way

to Amazing Grace -- nigga woke up and saw the big guns

Me and my two sons, he knew he was done

You hurt a loved one, step back about to let him have one

Yo fuck that, aiyyo black, where the sack of heroin at?

I'm bout to give cat some motherfuckin railroad tracks

We dumped the whole bag inside a spoon and left the room

to heat that, and came right back, yo grab the nigga arm black

Put raw shit in the nigga vein, watch the needle drain

Went from being restrained to mad 'tane

Less than a moment nigga started zonin

His mouth foamin, lookin like he posessed by The Omen

His bitch was reachin for the phone and, I had to smack her

with the chrome and, left her on the floor moanin

Cocked back, I had to finish this, know my stee'

we leave no witnesses, shot and got the fuck out the premises

[Outro]