Black Jack (producer) - Tales of the n***as Who Got Crept On lyrics

(*Several coughs*) (*Inhales*) (Intro) Yeah, hahahaha, what's black and blue floating face down in a river huh, huh Mark Furman tellin n***a jokes (oh sh**, ain't about a b**h), yeah (Spice 1) I got your mama up in the trunk of my hooptie (let me out, let me out), what should I do with the b**h? I think I want to dump her in a ditch, 'cause I'm a kidnapper Body-snatcher, witness k**er, special deliver, some murder to your door n***a Open it up and you'll be staring right down the barrel of a Desert Eagle fo-fo When I split your fo' it's time to bail, stick and move, dip and dive And ain't no trace, just a bullet enlodged up in your f**in face I knew a n***a who always wore black Said he was an O.G. player shot up some n***as with Macks Said he had a little drama with some high powered k**ers And the n***a that watched his back, he said he'd give me some scrilla So he parlayed through the city, hittin party's and clubs Until these so called O.G. motherf**ers finally showed up These ba*tards opened up fire in the middle of the party Blow to the floor and pulled my Mack and aimed for legs and bodies (oh sh**, god damn) (Chorus) Kick to the tales of the n***as who got crept on (punk a** motherf**ers) (n***a, f** that n***a, straightly smoked) Kick to the tales of the n***as who got crept on Kick to the tales of the n***as who got crept on (Spice 1) I hit two n***as up in the ankle and one in the knee Ain't nothin but the motherf**in hog in me So I bails to my caddy with the triple gold danas Gun powder on my fingers and still got one up in the chamber I told my n***a to bring his slow a** on Cause if he's stabbin the motherf**ers, the other two won't be long They comin, so hit the dirt and try to crawl to the ville and These fools is some k**ers and I can see they really want this n***a Musta f**ed em out some paper or somethin sick Whatever it is these n***as want to bury his dick Got in the caddy and raised up out the drama scene Looked like some gangsta sh** you see up on the TV screen But it ain't no cut, just action live, n***as die Drug related k**ings reach an all time high See real k**ers can be slept on I'm kickin the tales of the n***as who got crept on (Chorus) (sh**), kick to the tales of the n***as who got crept on (Go n***a, police lookin and sh** n***a) Kick to the tales of the n***as who got crept on (f** you doing n***a, firin up a joint, motherf**in...) Kick to the tales of the n***as who got crept on (f** is wrong with you?) (Spice 1) We chopped it up, my partner had some love Fifty g's to creep on the n***as that tried to k** us up that f**in club Twenty five up front and twenty five up for the k**in For that kind of money I'll have they blood up on the f**in ceiling Now the slaughter is about to begin Mini 14's, six homies and some motherf**in Mack 10's Infra-Red, silencer, I'll silence ya, cut off ya P-G-A and a Ma**acre Everybody, cause can't no n***a diss me n***as you sent to the club, with some motherf**in p**y (p**y) I'm feelin, hit the hospital straight do they a** I took em down to his basement and then I stabbed his a** Screams jumpin the night, the n***a never heard I k** with a routin Even got him for a couple of birds So then I creep up into the I-C-U, I see you livin too long n***a you crept on, your life gone (Spice 1) Yeah n***a, got some sh** just for you Special motherf**in can catch sh** you on, uncut herion n***a Straighten your motherf**in Bays n***a Yeah n***a, you like this sh** huh n***a, suffer n***a Suffer motherf**er, yeah, take a good dose of the sh**, n***a Yeah, yeah n***a you feelin it huh, can't breathe, what you can't breathe Somethin wrong what, what, huh, huh, what, what, huh, huh, huh, what Oh, thought you said somethin, hahahaha...