MAUSBERG

MAUSBERG - We Ain't Done Yet lyrics

rate me

(feat. Dresta)

[Mausberg:]

Yo yo nigga, where they at now?

[Dresta:]

Where they at?

[Mausberg:]

Black Tec nigga

[Dresta:]

I don't see 'em Berg

[Mausberg:]

The young hogs, nigga

[Mausberg]

Y'all niggas ain't ready for Berg to drop bomb

Blowin' your block up and I'm hot like napalm

Crumble yo wack shit then I mash with my sceptor

Hollywood niggas I'm ready to chin check ya

Yo the Berg is on some different type shit

Gangsta Trey packin' the all black pistol grip

My niggas be on some ill shit

Graduated from gangbangin' now we killin' over real shit

South Pacific, the place that they terrified of

Black Tec gangstas, low lights and real thugs

My dogs bit the hoes, ready for war

Brigade of young niggas wit' calicos and .44's

But them wack niggas claim they bring pain

You cowards better stick to bein' hard in the rap game

'Cuz on the streets I'm the Don-mega

A rider from killer Cali and I'm sayin' fuck whateva

[Chorus:]

How can you roll in California

with all that disrespect and not get wet?

This Compton, Cali where the saga begun

and motherfucker we ain't done yet

How can you roll with all that disrespect

in California and not get wet?

This Compton, Cali where the saga begun

and motherfucker we ain't done yet

[Dresta]

I'm goin' out on the first rapper blabbin' at the mouth

And if you try to hide from me nigga,

I'm gafflin' your spouse (come here bitch)

You cannot run from what has been done from day one

My words spread like plague and tread like lead in the wind

So holla holla if you really got a problem

Meet the problem solver, chrome .44 revovler

In fact I'm packin' my strap this very minute

Usin' 2Pac image, I'm feenin' 100 pecent to blaow

Yo style is blaow-ted, niggas thinkin' you wild

I know you thinkin' fuck Dresta, but never thinkin' out loud

You little bitch ass wannabe thug with baby muscles

Me and Mausberg gonna muscle you bustas outta your hustle

Compton, California is original,

most popular thugged-out nation where riders never vacation

I stay packin' the floor thinkin' of more ways to gaffle your bitch up and spit you down in four ways

[Chorus]

[Mausberg]

I'm still sayin' fuck y'all, realest until I fall

Pistol packin' car jackin' rider 'til I back on some extreme shit

Leavin' the car full of rappers leakin'

Got my fly on, so fuck them old people peekin'

I'm tired of rap niggas goin' Hollywood

And running off at the mouth and wanna kick it like its all good

I'm the superior, super spaced-out on cloud nine

Hash and mushrooms got a nigga mind

And ain't no tellin' when I might go pop

Fifty cal layin' niggas down, only one shot

My book is full of heavy hitters

Thrashers and ready to mash ya on commadn on Maus master

Y'all niggas don't want no contact with me

Three and fifty pounds sweepin' niggas off they feet

I'ma ht ya like vehicular manslaughter

Underground, but we prefer to call it underwater

[Chorus x2]

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