A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

U-GOD lyrics : "Here We Come"

(feat. INF-Black, Letha Face)

[Intro: INF-Black]

Gangster this and gangster that
Half of ya'll ain't gangstas, so hold that *gun shot* Blaow!


[U-God]
I got a deathwish, my playlist is wreckless
Almost famous but the natives gettin' restless

Leave 'em breathless, guess who popped up
With pile out, hear you talkin' like Wu's washed up
Squash what, I got balls and guts, more deluxe

The magnetic flux, in the all black tux'
And my back's all hushed, lead showers for you mutts
I devour the cuts with a power packed punch

And cowards I hunt, when I ride with my gun
I'm like a spoke on the wheel that glides on the drum
Through the, smoke I reveal, I'm the rising sun

That go through your shield, is he really that Hill?
Let the streets decide, with nerves of steel
Let the beats collide, with the death-defyin' skill

And beneath the sky, lurkin' network of strangers
That insert the danger with a touch of a finger


[Chorus: Letha Face (INF-Black)]
Oh no... watch... out... here... they... come
(Gangster this and gangster that

Half of ya'll ain't gangstas, so hold that *gun shot* Blaow!
Stand up... with... my... real... nig... gas
(Gangster this and gangster that

Half of ya'll ain't gangstas, so hold that *gun shot* Blaow!)

[INF-Black]

Yo, aiyo, I'm speakin' for myself, my feets on stealth
$#&@ thirty deep, I'm in your hood for delf
Blowin' trees with your main squeeze countin' my shells

As I feed the clips to the T, handle it well
Never been the one to front, son, my history's swell
Tell you how it's gon' be, what it was and what it is

Catch you in your sleep, thug, now your memory lives
The streets get the buzz, no love, them same thugs snitch, (*##$
Learned you was livewire, mafia lie

You get wired, by real gangstas and big buyers
Messin' with fire, you ought to leave town
Son, there's rules to this game, and these lames wanna be down

Bringin' all clothes, most fold when it go down
4-5 pounds out the gate, ^!$$%, slow down
I recognize real, and it ain't how you sound

It's the %#@! that you feel when I'm bustin' the pound

[Chorus]


[Hook: INF-Black]
^!$$%z keep talkin', better keep walkin'

Walk the block frontin', you ain't sayin' nothin'
You ain't poppin' nothin', you ain't cuttin' nottin'
Son, stop stuntin', before I start dumpin'


[Letha Face]
I apply your bones to the grindstone, to roam on the block with the chrome

Son I smack you out your rhinestones, holmes
I zone where the average man is not permitted to stand
Unless you got that thang, in your hands

Screamin' fans wanna touch me, groupies wanna $#&@ me
And crabs that don't wanna see me make it, try to bust me
Trust me, I got my %#@! on @@#!

So now I'm ready to rock you on the spot and put you in a human Ziploc
With the clip in his lock, and my hand over my heart
I swear to be my brother's keeper, til death do us part

The truest darts spoken in broken language, got you soakin' wet
Like a bottle of Dutch juice, with the mint leaves
^!$$% please, the trigger squeeze in every direction

Blood is similar to viral effects, enter your section
And my posession is a deadly weapon
This pen that I use, to bang a hole in your neck, ^!$$%, you suspect


[Chorus]

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