WC - Frontline lyrics

"Man, Dub, I don't even think they even believe in the Barracuda, Man! I think they doubting!" Ba**lines affect me, n***as respect me Cause my flows is deadly and I'm a Connect G And they know I'm ready cause my gun's directly Right where their neck be and I'll make the TEC breathe Climbing out of the manhole With three creases in my flannel The party's over, blow out the candles b**h n***as to the back Throw your hands up and guard yours Cause in the front I just wanna see the hardcore Now look, ninety-nine point nine point nine per cent gonna be all on my dick Like I spit when I drop this sh** That other 1 per cent is gonna be yelling "Boo!" On the Internet talking sh** and hiding like you f*ggot a** n***as Aiming the thing, thing to leave you brainless Snatching bikinis off you fake gangsters Spank you, bank you lamesters all you all pranksters Impatiently waiting to shank you I've been so anxious n***a back to grip the pistol ripping a (shut your mouth!) instrumental Still that four fingers up two twisted in the middle Round two letting off another round fool! Here comes Sasquatch in a pair of blue house shoes WC, crashing kicking the gla**, back at last And all y'all can kiss my crusty black a** I'm on some other sh** Two thousand and ten star child with the gauge bailing out the mother ship Got a gang of weed and I'm a smoke all of it Twenty years in the game and I ain't even started yet Stocking caps, Chucks, that's the WC starter kit Who want to see me on this walk twenty thousand start the bid A double-O schizo at my own concert In the bathroom ask a n***a what they hitting for And if I crap out then n***a clear the floor Cause I keep a .44 down to make sure they getting low The kind of n***a pumping fluid in a '64 Yelling f** security! shooting up your disco Go broke? sh** no! It's either rap or pitch dope That's why every mic booth I heat it up like Crisco I'm in the Crips Ford XT tipping slow with your baby mama Pulling up to the liquor store Out of South Central Me and CT the West coast audio two time villain like Gizmo WC spit the k** flow Ask Game ask Kurupt who the big homie that can still go Get with Dub? No for real Loc you got a better chance of Stevie Wonder making a fifty yard field goal Rough like Brillo, head real low Send my love to Cool J but ladies love me like a dil*o Dub a k** mode, sleep on me if you want I'm like a loaded gun with the safety off under the pillow Rags, braids, sets in the air I represent all that ignorant sh** you n***as scared of Got a big stack, Ds on the Cadillac But f** the brag rap I spit the brown bag rap I'm that Disrespectful a** n***a twisting on a zag Walking in the club smacking b**hes on they a** And got a rusty corkscrew and broken OE bottle Just in case the brave n***a with her want to play Geraldo Bullet tips hollow Dub will make your head bobble Ghetto artist draw from the hip like Pica**o I'm Pica**o in a hanky-patterned house robe Known for drawing two barrels that blow like nostrils Dub's out of control and got a lot of flows Keep the Rosé b**hes __ __ __ __ __ Looking for some cash Rat? Take your gla** back Cause over here a n***a's nasty like a** crack Turn your hearing aid up what's wrong with you? If you ain't s**ing of f**ing tonight you got the wrong n***a I'm in there doing a lot of things your n***a won't do Like putting you on a highway with a gang of n***as on you Them other rap n***as trick a lot of loot I just want to f** you and break you And treat you like a prostitute And I don't want to kiss, I just want to touch the enz Dub the gutter kid motherf**ers know what it is The ground pounder, Chevy scraper after the paper And in a squab' I'm good with the hands like a masturbator Smashing haters, cater to n***as who sag in Taylors Gang sign translator, s**er n***a a**a**inator The casket layer, 'hood navigator Look what you done gone me on Toones You should have never grabbed the fader Hara**inator, Wester with nav crusader Like Mayweather I'm tired of messing with you bums I'm moving my weight up I 'K you slay you spray you put your spirits in a cloud in the air Have your body on the ground surrounded by flares, see? It's back to the basics, so I'm closing my book With laughter, and putting a lid on the chapter And all you sentimental rappers Take money, take p**y, f** all that soft sh** I'm capping at your car b**h, y'all n***as garbage Dub the urban vet Mandingo f** with me I'll have You leaving the fight limping with your turtle neck wrinkled I know it's a couple of n***as that can swing 'em But show me a n***a with muscles I show you something that can shrink 'em Dirty ones, big ones believe me I ain't scared Dub will pick one, any one, got 357 of 'em Nah, what's really what's cracking I'm really with a TEC and Really with n***as gattin' Don't be talking loud but really be rapping Really the fact is the nine milli' I really be packing Cause y'all all lights and cameras I'm ready with the action When I'm on? No this is really just a fraction A freestyle for the top of the year Like Primo I'm calling it a Premier But don't worry the Barracuda's back taking the room WC and Crazy Toones motherf**er stay tuned!