Return Fire

MC Eiht

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    Geah
    Brrrr stick 'em hahaha stick 'em...
    Half ounce one time stick 'em
    Geah
    You know how the fuck we do it, c'mon
    Y'all remember that old school shit, geah
    Get 'em
    C'mon

    Your block is mine bitch back up
    We run the whole fucking world chips stack up (chin chin)
    We've been
    Gettin in where we fit in since the old days
    L.t.d.'s rode bopping the o'jays
    Gun place, crime place, one time swoop
    Strawberries in the back - at the 70's coupe
    Giving head like a chicken plucked
    Four niggas one bitch, everybody fucking
    From selling my
    Crack on the corner, packing, bailing my straps
    Got a
    Million reasons so it be's the killin season, moves the crowd
    As the bullets hit with no names
    Connects the dots echos through the ghetto hot
    Flies like an eagle
    Becomes the strap by the motherfuckin regal
    Tinted windows
    Tyres spin fast up out yo' set
    Next week right back to see who we can get
    You want yo' chin checked (ping)
    Fools just gimme a car
    We got yo' ass when we see you r.i.p. on the wall
    The way I'm livin don't give no hail low
    One times I stay low
    Want pay no compton, no play no
    Hit the round when we start blastin
    Out the back door
    Before they send the ? ? ? ? in (get up)
    We niggas fo' hire
    Bustin (boom)
    We bust back (boom), return the fire, get' em

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    Brrrrrrr stick 'em hahaha stick'em...
    Half ounce one time stick 'em
    Geah

    Bails around twelve o'clock
    Roam my block with the glock
    Keeps the world nicely stash
    From neighbourhood watch
    Walks the rocks
    Dope fiends makes my pay
    Late nite hype to fiends so they walk this way
    24 is the delivery
    And if you want that bomb shit come and spend with me
    Killas been with me
    Two top tree (geah)
    Cars deep from the streets a diploma
    Endo aroma
    In a coma trauma center, slugs hit your body
    Mentality's too sick when we leave the party
    Makes to clean ghetto way got yo' spot on quire
    Shootin a sheriff, we wired so you best not try it
    In my life time I find a fuckin need
    To be paper down red bones chronic weed
    With speed
    A nigga commits to - cluck his dope
    One time's trying to stop the paper chase fo' sho'
    Oh no ain't no escaping of the ghetto bird
    As they fly in fast the 5-0 swerve
    Niggas need to listen: pay attention
    For the money on a mission
    Niggas fo' hire 'turn the fire, geah

    Información de la canción

    Composición: A. Tyler

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