Madness 4 Real - You Don't Wanna f** Wit These (Unreleased '93 sh**) lyrics

[Refrain] You don't wanna f** wit these [Verse 1] You don't wanna f** wit these Run up you big-a** b**h and I'll have you clockin' G's Wit my knockout jab, mess around and stab Yo' a** in the gut, I don't give a f** Down with the brown, clownin' these honkies That got us in the mix with they 666 Tricks get found, stinkin' like tuna Bailin' through your hood in my fresh suede Pumas And I don't hit gates, n***a pump yo' brakes Cause I ain't runnin', you better start gunnin' Take your hand off your metal There's nowhere to hide, cause the world is a ghetto Want my afro long like Mad Dawg On a velvet poster, 40 on the coaster Cause moms don't play that sh** Been hard on a n***a since 8-8-6 Sayin' you need Jesus, cause I got the fresh sweatshirt With the three fat, creases And it's on like that, n***a where you at? At a phone booth, I'm comin' in the Coupe Beanie pull over, fool there they go Drive real slow so we can let them hoes know That G's even bust on L.A.P.D.'s Make 'em eat cheese cause they don't wanna f** with these [Refrain] And he don't wanna f** wit these [Verse 2] I got mo' flavor than a ho with a dick And a stick of gum on her tongue, I get you sprung With the psycho-alpha-disco, my fist go In my pocket, grabbin' on my pistol But I won't pull it out 'til it's time to spit Make the girls say, "Damn, n***as can't have sh**" Cause I see Satan, waitin' in the cut For this black motherf**er, to bail out his hut And I don't give a mad-a** f** About a sheriff who's tryin' to tear-off a hair off My chinny chin chin hit him up with the right And then I bend bend got his a** in my sight My Chuck's hit the cement, then I bent the corner Yellin', "Cop k**er", and f** Time-Warner" Got the wick-a-tick n***as say, damn he's so sweet Hypnotize yo' a** like that sh** "Knee Deep" And you hate it, gang-affiliated n***as be bumpin', just a little somethin' From that loc'ed out n***a that cater to the O.G.'s And let you know, that you don't wanna f** wit these [Refrain] And you don't wanna f** wit these And you don't wanna f** wit these [Verse 3] Rollin' through the hood, when I see a b**h I hit the switch, she's on my dick Fresh t-shirt, thick like I hangs They say I got St. Ide's rushin' through my veins From the CRASH units, all the way to Vice They claimin' Ice Cube, ain't nuttin nice Cause I keep hittin', f** Bill Clinton No repentin', just representin' I can walk through the park cause it's crazy after dark Keep my hand on my gun, cause I ain't the one Bang you're dead, brains out your head I wish I was the n***a that invented infrared Now I got it poppin' but what's that odor? Smells like a hot pot of that bakin' soda Cause I know n***as from A's to Z's slangin' ki's Sayin' you don't wanna f** wit these n***a please