We Don't Fuck Wit' Dat

The Click

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    [B-Legit]
    Ya see I'm nuttin' but a player call me bad news bear
    And everywhere a nigga go you know I check a hoe there
    And on my second time thru, you know how I do
    I get some head, and some ends and I'm gone by 2
    I got soundcheck bitch, the shows is at 6
    So when you coming in, bring your womanfriends
    I got a few dogs posted at my telly
    D-Shot, Tap, Young Mugz and Celly
    And we gone try to tear the fuckin' roof of something
    We was backstage smokin' and some hoes was thumpin'
    A bitch got mad cause she didn't get chose
    Reached back like a pimp and slapped the hoe
    Your nigga went wild when he first seen that
    Pulled out a sack and rolled one fat
    We was back to the tale cause we bail on them boyz in blue
    Fuckin' wit this Click crew
    And the worst things that happens when your out of the state
    They lock a nigga down and take away his dank
    It makes me can't thank, I gets nervous and sick
    Fiendin' for a motherfuckin' fix

    [Chorus:]
    [E-40]
    Smoke and we will go
    Puffin' on indo
    So put that back
    Cause we don't fuck wit that

    [B-Legit]
    I left Minnesota cause the spot was tired
    Hit Louiville and the spot was fire
    Old school sittin' on straight laced kicks
    Reminding me of 1986
    Fools burnin' rubber, fuck some switches
    Niggas from the bay smokin' up on bitches
    B was on the gash, smashin' yo
    Hoes passin' out cause there to much smoke
    Gary, Indiana, bitch gone in a minute
    I let you hit my weed and it's straight up shittin'
    In your draws, Guess jeans and all
    And then you had no one, give E a call
    But he called back and wasn't fuckin' wit you
    Cause hoes down South know good voo-doo
    Fuck around and have your ass sprung like Eddie
    Period blood mixed in your spaghetti
    And if I could I would roll a vega
    From Hillside, Cali to the Get Low Playaz
    You niggas light it for me and I'm pass it to Quinn
    And let it out when you get to chin

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    [Chorus]

    I'm finally hittin' Cali after 3 weeks gone
    Than ran out of boomb and I'm glad to be home
    Now who on my phone, Dante or Bruce
    I be there in a minute to do what we do
    See, it's a triviant game, cause we gone smoke
    And blow big dubs from young body and all
    And I can't give a fuck if you're drunk or smoked
    Imma give you a 5 we gone light the ...
    In to the ... told the shit on the street
    Some of tha homies that be restin' in peace
    The shit won't cease till I see D
    I know my homie got a fat blunt for me
    Pine apple juice, malibu rum
    1501 get your dickhead done
    When it gets like that, you know I gots to fuck
    Or maybe kcikback and get my dickhead sucked
    I won't ask for much, just ass and guts
    And brand new speakers for my oldschool cut
    A big fat sack of that dohja
    So I can get smokin' like I'm 'posed to

    [Chorus]

    Información de la canción

    Composición: B. Jones y M. Whitemon

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