LIL' FLIP & Z-RO - Art Of War lyrics
rate me[Chorus x2: Lil' Flip]
You know my niggaz ridin, I hope you niggaz hidin
You know my niggaz ridin, I hope you niggaz hidin
You know my niggaz ridin, I hope you niggaz hidin
Cause it's the Art of War, when I cruisin lyin
(Wooh, Wooh, Wooh)
[Lil' Flip: Verse 1]
You see the pain in my eyez
Bitch I ain't never scared
Lightin the flame i'm smokin my chain anywhere
A lot of niggaz tryin go against gangaz come
Every since March 27 I ain't forget to bring my gun
I took one and I ain't tryin to take no more
So before, get at me I'ma get you hoe
I keep a lot of dough I'm livin like the Godfather
And I just bought three carrots for my Goddaughter
Christain get over my chicks, this rappin shit made me rich
I smell like curv when I pitch
Nigga you get it homie
I be a orange mouth
Drinkin yellow drank nigga
I might be with Qute, Puff and Green gank nigga
You know we get each other
Like the Get It Boyz
Any rapper step to me he will get destroyed
Cause I'm the Marvin day of my time
And if you so hot why your video ain't retired bitch
[Chorus: x2]
[Lil' Flip: Verse 2]
Me and Z-Ro the kings
You better do your math
And this shit i'm spittin bitch
I ain't use a pad
I might bruise you bad
Just to mo your ass
Come down to Texas, and I bet the crowd boo yo' ass
A lenny got you gas nigga you ain't hotter then Twista
Jet on make you a gangsta, and neither do a pistol
Hood beef, is hood beef
We supposed to keep it in the hood
This nigga ain't from Houston Texas why y'all make him look good
I can tell he ain't real
Cause when the cameras come on
He got to put his grill in and pat his makeup on, huh
No hummers we got four four
Four hummers sittin' on no mo
In the lab me and Toad down state blowin dro
We ride around in dem drops
Sixteen switches it hot
Now stop, I know your lookin at my watch (Wooh)
Now it's time for me to end this verse
Because I'm tired nigga since I'm the Boston your fired nigga
[Chorus: x2]
[Z-Ro: Verse 3]
Y'all know my niggaz ridin
On the front line none of my niggaz hidin
Glidin on twenty two inches when I'm ridin
Custom made jewelry from Johnny got me blindin
Hold up my nigga you don't want to run up
Thats when the Mo City Militia hold they guns up
Fuck around and stab a nigga like my name Young Buck
Yea I know you cats think Im trippin when Im fucked up
See me rollin round on my big ass rims
Black Dickie top, blue jeans, and black & brown timbs
Cream leather seats big guns under them
Ridgemont hard heads yall dont want none of dem
And not an ounce nigga in my hood cant leave
Fuck around and make it where a sucka cant breathe
Ridgevan is ours yall fellas cant bleed that block, or get ya bitches d-e-a-d
These days Im the topic at the barbershop, like if they aint talk about it me they hard to stop
But Ima real nigga plus I like to squab alot, make niggas go to Herman and Ben Taub alot
Give a fuck if a nigga wanna squab or not, prepare your jaw for an Antonio Tarver shot
Wanna pistol play with me better bother not, thats when I pull up in them unmarked cars alot
Finna punish everybody on ya block right now, bitch niggas tryin to make it outta sight right now
Bout to be acquainted with the bright light right now, oh you think you got hands we can fight right now
Its The King Of Tha Ghetto and them Clover G'z, late night at the studio blowin trees
About to jump in the pickup and let the guns hiccup
When they find yo ass we gon see overseas
[Chorus: x2]
Thanks to J for these lyrics
