Murs - Gangster Ass Anthony lyrics

[Slug] You can't f** with the felt flow All the sh** that you talking, don't help you grow Mad face can't wait to catch you man made elbow You see mee say hello, when I leave say helll no I'm not an a**hole, I'm a perfectionist Travel the globe to have s** with pessemist my ? my doctor and my excorsist All suggest that we come here to wreck your sh** It's the treacherous, two plus Ant If we can't do it, who the f** can they claim ? slave to the ringtone I smell p**y in the bacon that you bring home The fistf**ing is function in this function Enough to justify, shutting down youre production Get off the mic.go straight at ya life for One of these mc's puts it on youre wife [Murs] Your girlfriend got her panties off, once again One naughty nasty sh** that I done to her friend So once again it's on motherf**er And you won't do sh**, you a b**h so f** you I didn't like myself this morning when I woke up So keep talking sh** like I won't loc up I'm from ? we don't stop when the police come, than the heat go poppin' Now we stopping, we go in the house You can get youre time for just try to show out I'm trying to roll out, no doubt Comming to take ya ho out Popping that junk, young punk what you know about Felt 2 me and Slug comming trough When we serving these s**ers like may I help you Supersize when we ride on these busters Murs two times with the L motherf**er [Murs] Man who the hell are you, trying bark trough this is my episode and it don't co-star you So shut youre f**ing mouth if you don't know what you talking about Get on youre cellphone, call her, tell him Now you running my name to the mud again Who I f** ain't none of youre bussines What I lick or s** man mind youre b**hness And that's b**hness, not ? You ain't proffesional punk, youre a pimp's a**istant you ride shotgun, I try to whip fool p**y don't drive this car, b**h dick do And if I hit you it's a knockout You strowed in but I bet ya won't walkout 0-0-7-3-7-3-5-9-6-3 That's the code if you wanna f** with me [Slug] You want a hit Give me a dollar plus a beer and some head Yo Ant turn up the snare till my eardrums turn red This is for my people waking up and burn in bed And this is for my people waking up to earn the rent I didn't come start no message I paid at the entrance I wasn't on the guestlist Had a few beverage than left because the rappers, hookers and ? werent to impresive Dirty something getting closer to the turkey stuffing Thirty husbands victem of a mercy snuffing Birdy bugging on the botom line But I'm bussing of the wine so everything is fine put youre hands in the air, like you happy to have hands I'm jump up and down like I'm happy to have fans It's all stay away from the pistols and On the bigger things, peace to Ricky James