Get Back

Mr. 3-2

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    I ain't the one nigga, you better run nigga
    Or get your gun nigga, 'fore you get done nigga
    So get back (get back), so get back (get back)
    I'm a gangsta for real, I don't play like that

    [Lil' Keke:]
    I'm bout two seconds off that ass, and kicking it fast
    I'm really not the one bitch, don't make me blast
    You better run homie, and get your gun homie
    I'm like T.I. my nigga, cause really they don't know me
    Shoot for nothing, and shed blood for less
    Put a hole in your back, through the front of your chest
    This a war zone, the beef never gone
    I got niggaz taking flight, like a fresh pair of J's on
    Get it twisted, shots won't miss it
    Fall in the mix, if it's broke I'll fix it
    Gangsta for real, don't play like that
    That's why the seat way back, on a new Maybach
    This is Southside S.U.C., to the finish
    Underground kings, we'll never diminish
    Better run fool, this is old school
    And I'll never leave home, without my own tool

    [Hook x2]

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    [Mr. 3-2:]
    Quick to touch ya, bum rush ya then cut ya
    Fuck off your whole structure, hollow tips bust ya
    Get your gun nigga, I ain't the one nigga
    You get done nigga, mob boss won nigga
    Gangsta for real, no story telling the lies
    I got some'ing in the chamber, to get rid of these guys
    Exercise my right to fight, and sweat it off
    Cause these niggaz ain't got no nuts, and way too soft
    Big Boss, that call the shots in front of the table
    These marks ain't got no stripes, and really ain't stable
    I'm able, to hold position lead my troops
    Send out a hit, and make my trigger man shoot
    My roots, all trace back to Don G's
    Killers for scrilla, bet erase enemies
    Keke and G-O-V, ain't the ones
    To be playing with, when our hands on a gun

    [Hook x2]

    [Cro$$:]
    I step out the house, black on black gat in my nut sack
    Toe tags, ready to put bodies in trash bags
    A mad man, niggaz out here telling
    I'm gut swelling boys up, with slugs to the belly
    And melon three time felon, close bailing
    Boys yelling my name, now the glock's to the brain
    Insane, a hungry motherfucker ain't ashamed
    To spit out names, like crabs that be snitching in the game
    And to mention crab man, your daughter's off the chain
    Yeah I'm shooting slugs at you, but my nuts hang
    Down to the flo', I step up in the club and don't pay shit at the do'
    Yeah nigga, you's a hoe
    And the rest of them niggaz, that was snitching like some bitches
    Y'all some cake ass niggaz, Cro$$ said that nigga
    Fuck it, ain't nobody else gon tell it like it is black
    And by the way I got my own back, it's right here in my lap

    [Hook x2]

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