The Heatmakerz - More Gangsta Music lyrics

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The Heatmakerz - More Gangsta Music lyrics

[Intro] Gangsta Music part 2. Dipset k**a, Heatmakerz, Juelz Santana C'mon, let's do it Can I get a jeah, jeah, jeah, jeah Everywhere jeah, jeah Up, down, left, right, jeah, jeah, jeah, jeah Shorty's movin again jeah, shorty's loose with the pen jeah Shorty do it to win jeah, jeah, jeah, jeah [Juelz Santana] They say I walk around like I got a S on my chest Tech on my left, gangstaz wit me ready to step. I like a chick wit big breasts on her chest Not flat lookin like somebody stepped on her chest What, (jeah) sh**, (jeah) f**, (jeah) b**h, (Jeah) You so crazy. My n***as spit the Glock Rude boi lick a shot Neva seen up in a pot Cook it to a bigga rock And I be wit dem gangstaz , I creep wit the gangstaz Crack a dutch or Philly and cheif cheif wit the gangstaz I stay with a lady, she stay with a lady They makin' me crazy I spray 'em with babies, in they face till they hate me And I'm makin' 'em crazy And they like when I do it, they like when I move it They like when I work it, they like when I hurt it I stay icy on purpose, like icy preservers More than likely I'm the nicest you hearda [Hook] I'm movin', movin', movin' He's movin', movin', movin' We movin', movin', movin' Stop movin' - Shot bruise 'em Two more for Cam for takinh over the Roc. It's my year so It's like the whole Bird Gang's in here Like Kurt Cobain's was here [Verse 2: Juelz Santana] Still listen to gangsta music, how dem gangstaz do it Shorty came to do it I bang wit the five I see hate in ya eyes You waitin' to die I pray for you guys, hate to keep wasting your lives Love to keep bakin' new pies, strapin' the scrapes off the side You can love it, you can hate it You can want it I'm Babe Ruth in this game, beige coupe in the lane State Troopers they came, damn he's movin' again I'm a better child, yous a pedophile I go throw lead around, my hoes throw head around They DTP's deep throat professionals My D.I.P.'s we so professional Got weed, coke, and ecstacy, lean, dope, and wet to sell We blow jars of the dank, like Bob Marley was wake Real shottas, f** ya foreigners stay I'm movin', movin', movin' Y'all losin', losin', losin' [Hook] [Verse 3: Cam'Ron] I'm on the south side of Chicago lookin' for a real ho I don't see a touchdown; arms up, field goal Got some ill gold, diamonds that's still low Lil dick, you a dickhead, nah dil*o I chill though, pipping in the Range All this icin I'm ashamed, look like lightnin' in the chain Who was first that moved wit they fam? Ask you, tattoos on they hand Slang all the white, cruise wit the tan Pink on they back, blue in they van) Yellow on his ear, steam on the rock Puple in the air, green in his pocket I ain't dissin' you, dog, I'm dismissin' you Get the R. Kelly tape and see how we piss on you That's Kool-Aid, Mountain Dew, and Cris on you Ya family will be missin' you, there's a kiss for you [Hook]

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