Trillville - Man Up lyrics
rate me
EYYYYYYYYY! ["You don't wanna do dat!" is heard in the background of the whole song] [Trillville ad-libing in background] YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! [Chorus] All that, talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that shit Talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that shit Talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that shit Talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that shit Man up motherfucker, man UUUUUUUP Man up motherfucker, man UUUUUUUP Man up motherfucker, man UUUUUUUP Man up motherfucker, man UUUUUUUP [Don P.] Now eve'body wanna fuckin have they own label Wouldn't on the first shit to bring to the table They in they own fantasy somethin like a fable Handicap situations all disabled I shut 'em down, like a computer Cause ain't nobody fuckin wit the super producer ?Coreleone? (yea), Trill town representatives (FUCK Don P!) Man some of y'all too sensitive [*gun noises*] But ya right, FUCK me! But ain't 'nam day you gon touch me Talkin bout, "Don P, why you buckin? Man you need to chill out get to the money" .....I already got it! and I'ma Trill nigga I handle ALL my problems Besides, I'm all about respectin I'ma man, before anybody checkin [Chorus] [Lil' Atlanta] What you starin at? This ain't no free show You gon make me cock back, hit ya ass in the door You don't wanna do dat, hear dem thangs clit-clak Goes in ya thru the front, comes out thru the back Come and make my night! Love to talk but hate to fight Was you a bitch? I was a bitch, it don't go away ova night Man up motherfucker man up! I told you once before motherfucker stand UP! [Chorus] [Dirty Mouth] Now if you niggaz keep playin, you gon make a nigga tear a hole Right thru yo chest, is yo flesh, I can see yo soul You don't wanna DO dat! I'ma hit you wit a bat Talkin all dat shit nigga and I'ma hit you wit da gack Seventeen times out da barrel on my .45 Four plus five equals nine goin thru yo spine Sit yo ass down hoe! Make a move you gotta go Erase you off da map and beat yo ass at yo own show Ain't playin no games wit you lames when it comes to gangsta shit Throwin up my middle finger, grabbin on my own dick Niggaz thank they slick take yo pick, which one you WANT bullets flyin thru yo house or goin straight thru yo door? Make yo ass choke wit different strokes of my hand movements Say dat your a G, in these streets, man you gotta prove in Next, time I see you talkin talkin shit I'ma rearrange yo mouth and put yo ass in a ditch, BITCH [Chorus] ["You don't wanna do dat!"]
