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    C-Bo / Lyrics

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    "Niggaz Get They Wig Split [Featuring B-Legit, Celly Cel, C-Bo]" Lyrics

    C-Bo feat. Celly Cel and B Legit

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    Duration:00:04:09
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    Lyrics

    [Featuring see-Bo, Celly Cel]

    be -Legit:

    Bitch I got beam like Scotty

    Leave you spotty

    When I point this aim at your brain

    And leave them hollow thangs in your body

    Lodi-dodi I drinks Bacardi

    Gets dick hard drunk

    When I'm off that skunk punk

    And you don't want to dance tingo tango

    I let my left right mingle mangle

    To your jaw southpaw

    It oughta be a law against these thangs I throw

    About to lay some shit down with Celly Cel and Bo

    From the Garden Blocc

    Hillside got they Glock

    Mack 10's

    Mobb shit'll neva end

    I'm tryin' to have it all

    So I ball 'till I'm gold

    Mobbin' through a sixty usin' cruise control

    see-Bo:

    I'm fuckin' wit that click nigga

    That big nigga on the block

    With Glocks, Rag Tops

    Cut thangs on them gold knocks

    Better watch your back 'cause we strapped with teks

    Push up in a blue Lex'

    And dump caps to your neck

    Mobb shit

    Bustaz all die

    Leather trench

    Brim and two nines

    Costume of a killa

    At your bed side holdin' on two millas

    Uggh we bust them teks close range

    Livin' estranged

    Called insane

    'cause when it's on it's on site no matter night or day

    And you can't fuck wit these

    Get smothered with a half a key

    Bitch

    Celly Cel:

    Give me the ball and I'ma fill the lane like 'Fenney

    Hardaway 'cause I'm out to get every penny

    Any nigga disrespectin' when I'm checkin' for my scrilla

    I know'm stilla wig splittin' killa ain't no realla

    Nigga realla than me

    Mobbin' through your hood and takin' heads

    Slumpin' hangin out the windows dumpin'

    And shakin' 'Feds

    So mind your own

    Cross the line and see how quick they gone

    Head blown decapitated caught slippin' in my zone

    Fuckin' with this Mobb shit

    Niggaz get they wig split

    see-Bo:

    Uggh it's the murder man posted at the front door

    And when they comes I dumps with both four-four's

    Letin' 'em have it 'cause I'm static

    Dumpin the grass

    Killed his ass

    And then kneel down and get my last laugh

    Punk bitch shouldn't have tripped

    Now he lay dead in the ditch

    Ass ripped

    Suckin' on his own dick

    Money talk

    Bullshit walk

    Fool this ain't no sunshine

    Three killas

    One garden blocc, two hillside

    be -Legit:

    This shit's fucked and I am tag teamin' with the murder man

    And that'll hurt a man

    Niggaz doin' dirt and

    All you got to do is hop your ass in my 'Cut

    We'll be back tomorrow mornin'

    Cell, you comin' or what?

    I got this gut feelin'

    About to make the killin' for a livin'

    The contract said the nigga wore a wire tap

    And they want him dead

    A hundred G's for his head

    And leave a bloody glove down where that body bled

    Celly Cel:

    Red rum is what I'm hummin' as I hit the fence

    Homicide looked for prints but found no evidence

    Stuffed his head in the duffel bag and zipped it up

    Them ballas want to see his face before they break us off a cut

    There it is cashed him like some chips at Reno

    Slid us a briefcase full of crispy ass see-Notes

    Made the hit

    Got the scrilla

    Gone without a trace

    be behind the wheel

    And Bo Loc cuffed to the briefcase

    Yo' nigga Cell got the chopper 'case they on my trail

    If it's a tail then I'ma leave a 50 empty shells

    Pistol smokin'

    These niggaz know we ain't no jokin'

    Split up the tokens

    And I'm back in the hood loccin'

    Fuckin' with this Mobb shit

    Niggaz get they wig split

    be -Legit:

    Yeah, like a real hillside strangler, yola slanger, tryin to get a

    buck but if I'm fucked in the gas chamber.

    The autopsy red, them niggaz had some heat fo yo ass.

    And never leave your block without your glock, clip and mask.

    Haters hatin but its all game related and that's what we do bitch
    This song was submitted on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC.
    Written by Brandt Jones, Marcellus James Mc Carver, Michael Mosley, Shawn Thomas.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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