Tonalité : A minor•
Verse 1
Am
You don't wanna fuck wit these
C
Am
You don't wanna fuck wit these
C
Run up you big- ass bitch and I'll
Am
have you clockin' G's
C
Am
Wit my knockout jab,
G
mess around and stab
C
Am
Yo' ass in the gut, I don't give a fuck
Down with the brown,
clownin' these honkies
C
Am
G
That got us in the mix with they 666
Am
G
Tricks get found, stinkin' like tuna
Am
Bailin' through your hood
in my fresh suede Pumas
C
Am
And I don't hit gates,
nigga pump yo' brakes
C
Am
Cause I ain't runnin',
G
you better start gunnin'
Am
Take your hand off your metal
There's nowhere to hide,
cause the world is a ghetto
C
Am
Want my afro long like Mad Dawg
On a velvet poster, 40 on the coaster
C
Am
Cause moms don't play that shit
G
Am
C
Been hard on a nigga since 8- 8- 6
Am
Sayin' you need Jesus,
G
Am
cause I got the fresh sweatshirt
With the three fat, creases
G
C
Am
And it's on like that,
G
nigga where you at?
Am
At a phone booth,
G
I'm comin' in the Coupe
Am
Beanie pull over, fool there they go
C
Am
Drive real slow so we can
let them hoes know
C
Am
G
C
That G's even bust on L.A.P.D.'s
Am
Make 'em eat cheese cause
G
they don't wanna fuck with these
Interlude 1
And he don't wanna fuck wit these
G
Verse 2
Am
I got mo' flavor than a ho with a dick
And a stick of gum on her tongue,
G
I get you sprung
Am
G
With the psycho- alpha- disco, my fist go
In my pocket, grabbin' on my pistol
But I won't pull it out
'til it's time to spit
Make the girls say, "Damn,
niggas can't have shit"
C
Am
Cause I see Satan, waitin' in the cut
C
Am
For this black motherfucker,
to bail out his hut
And I don't give a mad- ass fuck
G
C
Am
About a sheriff who's try
in' to tear- off a hair off
C
Am
My chinny chin chin hit
G
him up with the right
C
Am
And then I bend bend got
his ass in my sight
C
Am
My Chuck's hit the cement,
then I bent the corner
Cm
Am
Yellin', "Cop Killer",
G
and fuck Time- Warner"
Got the wick- a- tick niggas say,
F
G
damn he's so sweet
F#m
Hypnotize yo' ass like that
G
shit "Knee Deep"
And you hate it, gang- affiliated
Niggas be bumpin',
just a little somethin'
From that loc'ed out nigga
that cater to the O.G.'s
And let you know,
Verse 3
that you don't wanna fuck wit these
G
And you don't wanna fuck wit these
And you don't wanna fuck wit these
Verse 4
G
Rollin' through the hood,
when I see a bitch
Am
G
I hit the switch, she's on my dick
Fresh t- shirt, thick like I hangs
Am
G
They say I got St. Ide's
rushin' through my veins
C
Am
G
From the CRASH units, all the way to Vice
C
Am
They claimin' Ice Cube,
G
ain't nuttin nice
Am
Cause I keep hittin', fuck Bill Clinton
No repentin', just representin'
C
Am
I can walk through the park cause
it's crazy after dark
C
Am
Keep my hand on my gun,
G
cause I ain't the one
C
Am
Bang you're dead, brains out your head
C
Am
I wish I was the nigga that
G
invented infrared
C
Am
Now I got it poppin' but
G
what's that odor?
C
Am
Smells like a hot pot of that
bakin' soda
C
Am
Cause I know nig gas from
G
Am
A's to Z's slangin' ki's
G
C
Am
G
Sayin' you don't wanna fuck wit these
Am
G
Am
C
Am
G
Am
C
Am
G
G
Nigga please
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