Studio Ton - Heat 4 Yo Azz lyrics

[Verse 1: Celly Cel] One by one goes the bullets in the clip Put it in yo gat, one in the chamber, now you're ready to start sh** Heat comin from the barrel with a cloud of smoke Dead bodies on the ground when these fools get loc'ed It's crazy in the street, pack some heat for a s**er Mobbin through the town tryin to murder muthaf**as 211's every day, liquor store and bank jobs D boys gettin robbed, n***as get jacked for they mobbs What's a n***a to do, can't survive without a gun Snitches in the street, a n***a livin on the run It's fun but the pen is like smokin sess Locked up on a 187'll make any n***a stress You can wear a vest, it won't stop two to the head Shot you in your face and now your a** is better off dead Talkin sh**'ll get you smoked quick No need to save a ho because they can't live without dick So I focus on the mail, Celly Cel Ain't no playa-hatin n***a, I got too much heat to sell Fairy tales I never kick, it's gangsterism in my veins I kicked it with the O.G.'s pickin up on game: Get your money on, f** a b**h and get ghost And keep one in the chamber for them fools that play you close Them Sick Wid' It n***as keep makin the beat 4 yo azz Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky n***a got some heat 4 yo azz [ Hook (x2)] Some heat 4 yo azz Some heat 4 yo azz Them Sick Wid' It n***a got the beat 4 yo azz Some heat 4 yo azz Some heat 4 yo azz That n***a Celly Cel got some heat 4 yo azz [Verse 2: Celly Cel] Them Sick Wid' It n***as got the beat up comin with some heat Them federal muthaf**as tryin to get a buck in the streets Every day a n***a wanna test yo sk** And playa-hatas hate to see a n***a comin real The H-i-double l-s-i-d-e Down with the P.G., n***as don't wanna see me Act a f**in fool, shootin up the city Happy on the trigger like my n***a Frank Nitty Let's get into the C thang, Hillside slang It's a Hillside thang from the Hillside, mang Smokin em like a chronic sack, rollin em in a zag Hittin em with the funk and zippin em up in bodybags Everywhere I go fools get to actin crazy Wanna let they nuts hang, thinkin they can fade me So I keep a life-long mug on my face Rollin with some heat, sippin on a straight lace A high speed chase, bank it in the side pocket Po-po's can't f** with the 350 rocket Under my hood it's all good when I'm on the gas Checkin the rollers and the jackers that try to blast Tricks of the trade already made, gangster got it down Never panic under pressure when it's goin down Droppin a bomb, n***a, mobb beats 4 yo azz Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky n***a got some heat 4 yo azz [Hook] [Verse 3: Celly Cel] Breakin em off somethin proper for the nine-fo' In the do' is some of that heat 4 yo azz, ho Little hoes and the don't-know's need to know A n***a that flow who ain't comin out the gate slow Pimpin and and pandlin, ho handlin the whole bit k**ers move in silence, n***a, I don't talk sh** I see them loudmouth n***as keep gettin dead And the silent ones on 25 to life bids You gotta pack some heat in the street, it's goin down If you ain't down you better move to a square town n***as talk sh**, drink and smoke weed up Hit the county jail straight p.c.-ed up You never know who really down till the funk jump Same one that jump and the finger points at the punk And your crew wasn't down from the get-go Don't you know how that b**h-made n***a sh** go? Hollow points get to the point quicker Cause talkin sh** full of liquor thinkin that you're sicker Than the next n***a'll get you full of bullet holes Stayin on my toes and I just can't let go Of this mobb sh** that I kick 4 yo azz Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky n***a got some heat 4 yo azz [Hook]