4th Disciple - f**-U lyrics

[4th Disciple] Yo, yo Can't get no love No love, no love Gotta see us Blood For Blood out here No love, no love The war's on, no love Ya heard? Can't get this sh** no more Extra, extra, read the news, young clowns is Hell-bound From the universal sound, surround, comin down in yo' town Musical compounds, brothas can't wait 'til the sounds is laid down To express the mentals, be adjectives and nouns Be bless for the know-how, to master and manifest ya own style As we penetrate the scene, and run yo' projects on ya iced guillotine You wanna know what the scheme is? Check out how we blend it Load up the A-tone, then append it, 1 gigabyte is recommended To extinguish the thought of you ever makin more wack sequences Alas, that weak sh** is finished, a total diminish All wack MC's, producer wannabes and b**hes sellin p**y on CD's The future prophecy is to bring back originality Within ya musical chemistry, wack a** n***as [Born Justice] Yo, f** y'all b**h n***as All y'all fake b**h-a** n***as that roam in the streets Fight the heat, I be ya seat Cuz blood drops hit the concrete when n***as meet And words be the bullets on some heat-seekin hit Cuz nowadays when blood drips It's carved by the birds that f** the same dick All the n***as that could f** the same b**h Coked out and sh**, sodium, f** the whole click Run through ya town, sh** sound make ya sick Modern world, while foreigners deserve what you get The ward'll penalize, that's injustice who*es wanna serve, do the knowledge, sit and observe Venomous the darts by the clicks be the words [ShoGun Assason] You b**h-a** n***as, dare contest Come against the Gods and try to manifest You b**h-a** n***as Dare to contest, come against the Gods and claim rest What? What? Yo, check it Yo, yo, yo, yo, you can't hold ya own sh** down So, how the f** you gon' take my crown, clown? You ain't really ready to rumble with the Gods f** around and get scarred With ya hands high, prepare to fight for ya life We could box or throw rocks, save ya tough talk I'm a southpaw and my style is unorthodox I leave you coward n***as tremblin Bend then I stomp a mud hole in ya a** with my Timbalands You f**in pansies, got more sugar in ya blood than candies With ya sober suit-suits and ya cute matchin groups Dancin around like prostitutes, fatality I be ya n***a from the South, b**h What? f**-U [Outro: All] f**-U, U and U Cuz y'all n***as ain't sh** f**-U, U and U Cuz y'all n***as ain't sh** f**-U, U and U Get off my dick And ya whole f**in crew What? f**-U, n***a! Yo, you ain't sh** and ya whole f**in click And ya mothaf**in b**hes f** all y'all! f**-U and U and U f**-U, U, U and U f**-U too, and ya whole f**in crew f**-U too Cuz we sh**tin on U sh**tin on n***as We be the best MC's What? *echoes*