Originoo Gunn Clapazz - Dirtiest Players In The Game Lyrics
[starang]Word up, word up, youknowimsayinIts like, niggas ask me why we aint do that fab 5 shit(I know I know what they ask you, whens fab 5 comin out)Knowimsayin its like, what the ***** man, knowimsayinNiggas always know man, for real for real man(hennyville, william h., top d-o)Heltah skeltah (sean price) sean p!![ruck]Aiyyo I step in the ring weighing two-hundred and twentyCuz I do gotta get money, mad dudes wanna confront meBut they cant, ***** wit my speed and my powerThe combinationll ***** you up just like weed and some powderThe iron mike of this rap shit, mad niggas appearSpit some shit from my mouth piece thatll rip your *****in ears offLeave you punch-drunk when I hit you wit bottles of smirnovRap style is rusty, took too many years offWipe ya tears off ya cry baby, why should I save theeLife as a trife nigga sayin bye baby!Remember what the rapidness rappin, we make it stackin capsChill, fore I pull out my steel and something real happens[top dog]Why you wanna take my life kid, like it wasnt nuttin?Had to put it down and show you where Im fromBucktown is the place and will be livin where me grownBeen to many places, never strayed away from homeBecause my home is home, in a ditch still wit my bone (fab 5 mad live!)Im at the three-point line no time wastin in caseTheres another player up in my lane, and then I lace himThe point is taken, drop the loss upon your boardIm checkin all of yall because your game is so fraudCall me top dog, the big cahuna so what you knowShaving all your points just like I told you to do soAnd come on down, wit ya half-man teamIll trade your half-man queen, and got you weezin on your kneesNow spit it out, your game is weak man, shit it outYoure all up in the game and dont know what the shit is boutWiggy-wig out, wig the ***** out nigga, what nigga[starang]Aiyyo fab 5 mad live, blowin up the spotGrab the mic if ya like, show me what ya gotBetter drop that shit if it get too hotFab 5 mad live, blowin up the spotThis is the mfc, and double-dIn the ninety-now, we lock it downThis is the mfc, and double-dIn the ninety-now, we lock it down[rock]First of all, alcatraz I master my craftGot the power to bomb that ass like Im kevin nashCuz every game the same, niggas is tryin to blowIf this was wrestling, wed be nwoThe same shit, they started out havin the bullshit fightsLike we had the bullshit shows rockin the bullshit micsMade a little cheese and left, and that shit aint rightBut had our monkey-asses back the same time the next nightStarvin, finally they noticed niggas got talentGet busy for dolo, plus a tagteam we be wildinStep in the ring deep, let it beginPeep, creep and jump all except for my kinThose are the breaks man, we take winsBuy hook-up by crook manSmack you wit a chair if ever the ref aint lookinWinnin the belts like goin gold or platinumI swear this year, we gon do it and we aint playin fair[starang] *shoutouts in background*Fab 5 mad live blowin up the spotGrab the mic if ya like, show me what ya gotBetter drop that shit if it get too hotFab 5 mad live blowin up the spotWassup wassup, wassup wassupAh-ha, wassup wassup, wassup wassupYo son I lace up my cleats, and then I step out on the fieldLook out in the stands, I see my niggas from the villeI keep my eye on they qb, grillin em, thinkin bout killin emSimply for the fact that we aint feelin emWord up them faggots on the other side dont know starangSacrifice myself just to win the whole gameSack ya ass, dance like Im on soul trainIm just hype, they testin me for the use of cocaineTwo minutes, gotta win it for my magnum forceGive me the chance and the ambulancell drag em offWe blastin off, that crown yall wore, pass it offAint ya wifey a cheerleader? nigga her ass is softIt aint nuttin, we aint frontin, ***** the fortune and fameWho will forever remain, the dirtiest players in this game[louieville sluggah]Yo its down and out, but really its just beginningBottom of the eighth, and top of the ninth inningYo cleanup is up to bat, what you still runninOne try to steal but chill, we only dumbinBut back to ya enter, pointin at the gate as he steps to the plateMakin that call on the ball, send that pitch over the wallAnd frame it up, disappear car doorHardcore wars, the fans demand moreCheckin me out, lookin on the big screen billboardIts ville yall (player wit the stats they kill for)Dont wanna bunt up, cuz all I think about is homers[starang]Fab 5 mad live blowin up the spotGrab the mic if ya like, show me what ya got(where yall at, where yall at)Better drop that shit if it get too hot(where yall at, where yall at)Fab 5 mad live blowin up the spotYes yes yall fab 5, we the best yall, remember that?Yes yes yall, fab 5 be the best yall word upFab 5 mad live blowin up the spotGrab the mic if ya like, show me what ya gotBetter drop that shit if it get too hotFab 5 mad live blowin up the spotSteppin in hotter this yearLet the brains blow, word upAh-ha ah-haOh oh, word upHeads aint ready for the shit we gotNiggas aint ready for the shit we got
