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    Boo Yaa Tribe / Lyrics

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    "Don't Mess" Lyrics

    Boo Yaa Tribe

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    Duration:00:02:59
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    Lyrics

    (The moral of that story is
    Don't mess around and get yo ass stomped)

    [ The Godfather Rock ]
    (Yeah, yeah, yeah - yeeaaaah)
    Boo-Yaa funkin it up
    (Don't mess with)
    Boo-Yaa funkin it up
    (Don't mess with)
    Boo-Yaa funkin it up
    (Don't mess with)
    Booooooooo-Yaa!

    Yeah
    (Yeah)
    (Come on)
    (Posses better step back)
    (Tell em what it is)

    [ VERSE 1: Ganxta are?dd ]
    Don't mess with a riot, we're prisoners of emotion
    How politicians figure they have the potion?
    But I'm the witch doctor, I came to rock ya
    (And if it don't work) Then I'm gonna sock ya
    Don't need violence, but violence is here
    Listen up close and put on a riot gear
    Cause Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E. is comin up hard
    (What you think about the posse?) I think we see in a graveyard
    I'm the rap criminal, comin from my limo
    Every lyric I say, I write it down on my memo
    The MC in command, my A.K. ??they banned??
    Me and you one on one, Ganxta are?dd still stand
    I never dirty my back, I never ever get jacked
    On stage (cause he carries a gat)
    .44's large, I got a big bodyguard
    The rap mafia Godfather Rock is in charge
    You don't mess
    With that Boo-Yaa funk

    [ The Godfather Rock ]
    (Yeah, yeah, yeah - yeeaaaah)
    Boo-Yaa funkin it up
    (Don't mess with)
    Boo-Yaa funkin it up
    (Don't mess with)
    Boo-Yaa funkin it up
    (Don't mess with)
    Booooooooo-Yaa!

    I'm gonna tell you only once

    (Yeah)
    Yo loc
    Pass me that second clip, homeboy
    I can do this
    (Tell em what we about)

    [ VERSE 1: Ganxta are?dd ]
    Don't mess with a dopedealer, makin transactions
    Cause makin money is their satisfaction
    Sellin drugs is the way they survive
    Smokin drugs is the way they die
    So who's the main killer, the pusher or the user?
    You figure it out, I'm not here to accuse ya
    Cause I'm a dope dealer, slingin records
    Makin records, breakin records, settin records
    So now you know what time it is
    You don't mess with the stuff, you can't hang with this
    I'm a pusher, a killer, never to be followed
    (To all you posses) 187 with a beer bottle
    So how you figure, the are?dd behind the trigger
    Huh, you try to run, I hunt you like a ninja
    Cause I'm so quick (how quick?) like lightning
    To MC's the are?dd is so frightening
    They keep askin me (R?dd, what you writin?)
    A letter to the posse who comin in here fightin
    So like dope dealer would say
    You shortstop, my customer get sprayed with the A.K.
    You don't mess
    Homeboy

    [ The Godfather Rock ]
    (Yeah, yeah, yeah - yeeaaaah)
    Boo-Yaa funkin it up
    (Don't mess with)
    Boo-Yaa funkin it up
    (Don't mess with)
    Boo-Yaa funkin it up
    (Don't mess with)
    Booooooooo-Yaa!

    I'm gonna only say it once

    Come on
    (Yeah)
    You think they're ready for the last one?
    (I don't know)
    Bring on that clip, homeboy
    (That one was too funky)
    (Give it to em anyway)
    (Come on)

    [ VERSE 3: Ganxta are?dd ]
    Don't mess with the boys in black when your ass get tapped
    By Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E., the mafia of rap
    Life of last (lane) never been delayed
    Commit a crime on stage and still get paid
    Makin dollars to holler, your posse's to follow
    The T.R.I.B.E. get bigger, your posse get smaller
    Your lyrics is scratched, your record is dubbed
    You ask what's the funk hypin up the club
    Boo-Yaa funkin it up
    Then you turn to your lady as you say it again
    Boo-Yaa funkin it up
    Yeah
    Don't mess with a bullet when the trigger is pulled
    You don't mess with the T.R.I.B.E. when we act a fool
    The Godfahter Rock TE, once he starts snappin
    O.M.B. on the bass, he starts slappin
    are?dd start rappin, my T.R.I.B.E. start cappin
    Your posse plays it up, I say, "Yo, what happened?"
    Now they got me in a cell, but they fail
    I still got E.K.A. and Don-L raisin hell
    Put down my mic, I got L.A.'s best
    Most wanted stays are?idd, takin over the west
    Always been loc'ed since the day we was born
    We peel a cap like a monkey peels a orange
    Tear your ass up with my lyrics of death
    Put down my mic in case you run out of breath
    Roll your ass up and tell you to leave
    Like the last record company who didn't believe
    But that's okay, because the going gets tough
    You don't mess with this stuff
    So how you like us now?

    How ya like us now?
    Homeboy

    They gonna funk to this
    They have to
    I'm gonna only tell you once
    You don't mess with Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E.

    [ *DJ EZ Mike cuts up* ]
    (Don't mess around and get yo ass stomped)
    This song was submitted on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group.
    Written by Carlos Delano Wilson, Danny V. Devoux, John Robert King, Louis Wilson, Michael S. Simpson, Paul Devoux, Ricardo A. Wilson, Ted Devoux.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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