Fabolous - Niggaz Lyrics
Intro - DJ Clue]Yeah y'allThis the Triangle OffenseGhetto FabPaul Cain, Joe BuddensWe all "Street Dreams"At one time or anotherFast cars, cashMoney, hustlin...C'mon y'allDesert StormChorus - Paul Cain]Some niggas thug, and some niggas is *****Some niggas'll rob, and some niggas'll pitchSome niggas ain't got shit, some niggas richSome niggas do the time, and some live as a snitchVerse 1 - Paul Cain]Now some niggas like to pull out and talk, some niggas pop offSome niggas found they way to the top, some niggas got lostSome niggas keep it thorough in jail, some niggas got softSome niggas ride hard top Coupe, I pull the top offAnd quick to speed off on the jakeQuick to back, any nigga gettin money, come up off of the safe***** the city, I'm extortin the stateI'm like O. from the "Wire", walk wit a sawed-off and a .8When I was taught, never talk wit a snakeWhen you kill a nigga you love, you pay for the coffin and weightGet you wrapped up, and tossed in a lakeIf you can't get the whole pie, just take ya portion and skateDon't ***** wit niggas, if they soft or they fakeOnly jail cats, and niggas going back and forth to court could relate***** wit me, and I'ma alter ya fateSend some wolves after ya girl, I specialize in torture and rapeWe in the game most dudes ain't built forCain talk the type of shit, niggas get killed forWhatever it's gon' be, let it be, I ain't waistin a slugAnd time is money, and when it come to mind, take it in blood, niggaChorusVerse 2 - Fabolous]These niggas act like, I ain't sling the clip at the last laneAnd ran to the cops, to bring the tips of the last names (Nigga!)Like I ain't bring the shipments, and past caineAnd sticky that'll leave ya finger tips wit the grass stains (Nigga!)Like I don't swing and zip through the fast laneWould you believe, this ringer chipped me a fast Range (Nigga!)Like I ain't sling on stips, till my past fameAnd stacked it up, like the Pringle chips, when the cash came (Nigga!)Like I ain't fling and dip, when the task cameI knew these niggas sing like pits, so I stash changeThe singles chipped in my ass changedBut this player never pay for, them rings and whips, just to gas danceI'm why you stay in touch wit ya writerEven made you pick up ya pen, and start clutchin it tighterI ain't much of a fighterBut I know, everything about rollin up, like a Dutch in a SpyderMy dope is much more than whiterOne hit'll have the fiends yellin out, they need crutches and lightersThe Fed's can't touch us indict us, and the hoes can't even get numbersThey wanna stay in touch, they could write us, niggaChorusVerse 3 - Joe Budden]Listen, listen, I lived that life, of click-clack lifeThe kidnap life, the kid's the wise, I did that twice!You prolly see that through ya ***** ass eyesStill I'm that nigga that you get at whyMan forget that they knew me, remeber me thugI'm from that same block, rips snorkle on ja dip in a Lucy'Member they back you down, when knives was out.45 was out, scully ya eyes come outBut now could you hear nigga all in this placeThat when you see him in the streets, you gettin all in his faceMore you give a nigga, the more that he takes, and you wanna beefKnowin I'm slower than do so, cause I got much more at stakeHUH!?... that's why I'm ignorin ya pageI can't respect you no more, you's a fraud and a snakeBut you noticed that's the hate that I loveYou see me eating off rat, that same feat you think you capable ofDon't get me worng, I would like to get itBut you acting like, I ain't blow my show money on a rifle *****And my pop's voluntarily, surrendered to the Fed'sThis is the wrong time to ***** wit my headI'm tryna tell you, friends are ya worst enemiesSo if I make friends wit my worst enemies, that'll maybe even things outBut one in ya dome is easy, get it on if need beChrome for sheezy, please, DON'T believe me
