Petey Pablo - U Don't Want Dat lyrics

Published

0 298 0

Petey Pablo - U Don't Want Dat lyrics

(feat. Lil Jon) Let me tell y'all n***az like this here right It's 2003 my n***a All that, all that yappin at the mouth sh** my n***a Um, n***az ain't with that sh** my n***a We don't play that sh** no more mane Soon as a n***a start talkin that sh** Mane, you on the floor shawty Yeah(Yeah) Yeah(Yeah) Yeah(YEAH!) (Chorus) Watch a n***a get swole on (For talkin that sh**) Watch a b**h get rolled on (For talkin that sh**) Watch that n***a get laid out (For talkin that sh**) Watch them b**hes get drug out (For talkin that sh**) You don't want none, n***a you don't want none You don't want none, b**h you don't want none You don't want none, n***a you don't want none You don't want none, b**h you don't want none (Bridge 1) You don't like me, I don't like you You want to fight me, I want to fight you Put yo hands up n***a, put yo hands up b**h Put yo hands up hoe, put yo hands up trick f** these rental cops, they don't run sh** Who run this sh**, we run this b**h Put yo hands up n***a, put yo hands up b**h Put yo hands up hoe, put yo hands up trick My back ain't dirty, my lip ain't swole My head ain't busted, my nose ain't broke Put yo hands up n***a, put yo hands up b**h Put yo hands up you hoe, put yo hands up you trick (Verse 1) I'm from a small town called, whoop a n***a a** And I mean we'll whoop a n***a a** And I mean we'll beat a b**h to d**h And I mean, carry him all the way there Take a n***a down the dirt path to the junk yad Where it's stankin at Put his a** in a plastic bag, where there's a hole where you blast him at And I'm talkin bout, tired up witha shoe string And a fishing hook stuck in his thing Layin on empty cans, recycled bags, and some pissy as gatorade Swiss blade, what cut buddy gone enter the damn microwave Better get you a sharpener baby, cause that thang gone only get me activated You look hard, but you really soft You tried to make me mad, but you just piss me off I ain't scared of you n***a, I ain't scared of them hoes And I definately ain't scared of tight T-shirt as n***a that thank he swole (Chorus) (Bridge 2) I don't blame you, I blame yo mammy b**h She should've f**ed yo daddy, she should've s**ed his dick You's a punk boy, a f** boy That like it in the a**, with somethin real hard (Verse 2) So when he come motherf**ers you can stand him up Ask one of these n***az I was tearin him up Have them sayin that country boy bad as f** Came in here with a heater and had to bust Put him right back in before I put it on I'm sayin this game ain't changed much Still the same motherf**er used to sell the d** Still the same one, used to come to the club See a n***a, leave a n***a in a bag of blood In the car with his broad when the police come (Gone) For they find what they lookin for (Yeah boy) you don't hear me though Cause ain't nothin that a n***a ain't cone before And nothin that a n***a won't try again But remeber what's up and I'm is the man You gone crazy, feelin froggy then gone ahead and leap but whe nyou jump over here, try to remeber what the f** I said cause I meant it (Chorus)

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.