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Twista( Carl Terrell Mitchell )
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The Come Up
Lyricist:Carl Terrell Mitchell, Frederick Taylor
Let me take you to the wicked wicked Westside Where them niggaz carry chrome and the best die Where we push up in the corners that we fight for City from the shores breeds gangsters and Vice Lords
Bustin' pistols while we runnin' from the five, oh Hit the adversaries up because we drive slow
Oh, I'm a killa mayne, standin' on these corners Hustlin' for my denim mayne and if you try to move Soon as I hear one shot I'ma let the tec and desert eagle ride non-stop
If I have to I'll commit a murder just to maintain Tell me what you thought I'm from a city Where they gang bang and I got that thang thang
Get it however you want it cop a fo' and then split Hustle hard and work your way up 'til you holdin' a brick Cop an ounce of this 'dro I got the flyest shit in town Bet you within a week you'll be able to get a pound
Go ahead and drop you can whip on 24s to get around Gettin' paper make me feel like
Let me see all of my gangsters come up in Chi-Town Let me see all of my hustlers come up in Brooklyn Let me see all of my riders come up in the Bay
Let me see all of my killers come up in Houston Let me see all of my bitches come up in ATL Let me see all of my niggaz come up MIA
Now let me take you to the motherfuckin' Southside City of the chrome, get shot up for standin' outside Don't talk no shit or you can end up on prime time My nigga Ty Nitti be holdin' down the nine-nine
That's where the thugs lurks, I done been out there Seen them niggaz put in blood work When I'm in the 100's you can always smell the scent of purple These niggaz always gettin' money in they inner circle
Fuck with 'em they fin' to hurt you, gotta get they cash on Necessary evil they quick to put the mask on Then they gotta put the mash on, steady bustin' at each other I take a tool and bust my strap and scream out, 'Free my brother' Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com
Bitch ass motherfuckers, I'm about to break 'em out If they hit me before they get me I'ma take 'em out If we successful we gon' smoke a blunt and cruise home Introduce him to his new charger with no shoes on 'til the haters move on
In to set up shop now, gotsa hold the block down Gettin' paper make me feel like
Let me see all of my gangsters come up in Chi-Town Let me see all of my hustlers come up in Brooklyn Let me see all of my riders come up in the Bay
Let me see all of my killers come up in Houston Let me see all of my bitches come up in ATL Let me see all of my niggaz come up MIA
Now let me take you to the motherfuckin' projects Where the true thugs and the elite members of the mob at Know somebody, better call them out or try to tell them later When they tell you, where you from? when they catch you on the elevator
The fiends lurkin', niggaz serve in pissy hallways Can't say shit 'cause they be gettin' money all day
Mercedes parked out front, chillin' with a hat cocked to the left In the ride with the glock cocked smokin' a blunt 300Z with the Lamborghini do's and some hoes with a big ol' project booty And the beat kinda hot but the cops wanna come to hold the work He got that duty so they can't do nothin' to me
Seventh flo' with the 'dro now, nineteenth flo' by the rocks now Gettin' paper make me feel like
Let me see all of my gangsters come up in Chi-Town Let me see all of my hustlers come up in Brooklyn Let me see all of my riders come up in the Bay
Let me see all of my killers come up in Houston Let me see all of my bitches come up in ATL Let me see all of my niggaz come up MIA
Yeah, some oh six shit For all the real niggaz and bitches to ride to Not none of that ol' lame ass, metaphoric ass, ol' goofy shit This some of that real shit, that Chi-Town shit That gangster shit, fool, Twista bitch
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