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Mausberg - We Ain't Done Yet lyrics
f/ Dresta rtist: Mausberg f/ Dresta Album: Non-Fiction Song: We Ain't Done Yet Typed by: Sauee@hotmail.com (Mausberg:) Yo yo nigga, where they at now? (Dresta:) Where they at? (Mausberg:) Black Tec nigga (Dresta:) I don't see 'em Berg (Mausberg:) The young hogs, nigga [Mausberg] Y'all niggas ain't ready for Berg to drop bomb Blowin' your block up and I'm hot like napalm Crumble yo wack shit then I mash with my sceptor Hollywood niggas I'm ready to chin check ya Yo the Berg is on some different type shit Gangsta Trey packin' the all black pistol grip My niggas be on some ill shit Graduated from gangbangin' now we killin' over real shit South Pacific, the place that they terrified of Black Tec gangstas, low lights and real thugs My dogs bit the hoes, ready for war Brigade of young niggas wit' calicos and .44's But them wack niggas claim they bring pain You cowards better stick to bein' hard in the rap game 'Cuz on the streets I'm the Don-mega A rider from killer Cali and I'm sayin' fuck whateva Chorus: How can you roll in California with all that disrespect and not get wet? This Compton, Cali where the saga begun and motherfucker we ain't done yet How can you roll with all that disrespect in California and not get wet? This Compton, Cali where the saga begun and motherfucker we ain't done yet [Dresta] I'm goin' out on the first rapper blabbin' at the mouth And if you try to hide from me nigga, I'm gafflin' your spouse (come here bitch) You cannot run from what has been done from day one My words spread like plague and tread like lead in the wind So holla holla if you really got a problem Meet the problem solver, chrome .44 revovler In fact I'm packin' my strap this very minute Usin' 2Pac image, I'm feenin' 100 pecent to blaow Yo style is blaow-ted, niggas thinkin' you wild I know you thinkin' fuck Dresta, but never thinkin' out loud You little bitch ass wannabe thug with baby muscles Me and Mausberg gonna muscle you bustas outta your hustle Compton, California is original, most popular thugged-out nation where riders never vacation I stay packin' the floor thinkin' of more ways to gaffle your bitch up and spit you down in four ways Chorus [Mausberg] I'm still sayin' fuck y'all, realest until I fall Pistol packin' car jackin' rider 'til I back on some extreme shit Leavin' the car full of rappers leakin' Got my fly on, so fuck them old people peekin' I'm tired of rap niggas goin' Hollywood And running off at the mouth and wanna kick it like its all good I'm the superior, super spaced-out on cloud nine Hash and mushrooms got a nigga mind And ain't no tellin' when I might go pop Fifty cal layin' niggas down, only one shot My book is full of heavy hitters Thrashers and ready to mash ya on commadn on Maus master Y'all niggas don't want no contact with me Three and fifty pounds sweepin' niggas off they feet I'ma ht ya like vehicular manslaughter Underground, but we prefer to call it underwater Chorus x2 |
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