Producer / Mo B. Dick Lyrics / You know you done fucked up? You know you done fucked up, don't ya? Nigga you really fucked up We on a muthafuckin mission I'm ridin dirty with my TRU muthafuckas Fiend, Steady Mobbin', C-Murder in this bitch Retaliation is a must Dumpin rounds on my muthafuckin adversaries [C-Murder] Nigga, nigga ridin dirty for revenge With my friends, I'm on a caper Ready to kill 'em, if I see 'em Fuck alarm, hold my paper I'm a rider, so I leave 'em where I left 'em When I creep, niggas sleep And they ain't restin til they deep up in the concrete Jungle with them slangers, with them bangers and them hustlers With them killers, smokin woo and makin deals with my TRU niggas Fiend had some yay, so we flipped it on the block Steady Mobbin' flew from Cali so we put 'em up on the spot Servin dub sacks and flippers, fifty shots and quarter bags Raisin riches no matter week, servin keys out paper bags And hustlin hard, countin money by the sack Watch my back, niggas jack Sweet revenge, counter attack up in my 'lac Sippin Hennesy and chronic, I'm the tweak for some magic Rollin the window, nigga, it's him so pistol playin bout to have it Fuckin bullets gots no name nigga you name is on this one Ridin dirty with my TRU bitches so nigga on a mission [Chorus:] (Lines echo in background) X 4 In on a mission, ridin dirty with my TRU thugs Retaliation, dumpin rounds, with no love [Fiend] Fiend, my reason to gunplay Loadin my chopper right up the one way Wishin we facin a dead end So I could show how this gun spray Just one damn word, that's all I desire So I could bend these niggas back like chicken wire Spittin fire, mobbin, s'on when them bullets get to pourin (..?..) get my adrenalin goin I ain't ignorin, no problems, no worries baby I severed the crusher, and buried my (..?..) Over the dresser, Fiend the trigga my lesser Gon test ya, with a season to kill And catch me celebratin across the battlefield Loco, this is the deal, let's put the gun To the small of his neck, we got caught up and blast Until there's nothing left, boy I thought some more niggas kept, what? what? Cause I ain't facin prison Exercising my right to exorcism Completed my mission, huh? By lettin the land just listen Cause they the reason my lil homie ain't livin So, we on a mission Chorus X 4 [Steady Mobbin' 1] (..?..) the cleaner, alias Saddam, nigga (What's up there?) Cold cop killers Now it's really on (What's up fool?) Being crooked, we do it dirty, (We doing it!) C-Murder and Fiend (There they go!) We dump the fifty round magazine Locin and mobbin, til it's clean (Make sure it's clean) Hooked up with the colonel, and the billy, cause I need cream Fifteen five, made twenty five, six hummer size (Nigga!) Muthafuckas died, (Nigga!) all in one night (They die!) [Steady Mobbin' 2] (A lot of these lines are overlapped by screams Gunshots, etc. Hard to understand...) Pulled the trigga on my nigga (Not my nigga, damn!) As the forty caliber shell, blew up in the neck Twice in the head, he was dead 'fore his body hit the ground (Damn dog, don't go nigga!) Bitches scream, nigga (..?..) Pull up next to the bodies, I was runnin My dog's head was blew off I'm bustin hella (?) (BUCK, BUCK, BUCK) Hit the driver's side window, as they crash into a pole (..?..), with a few left in the clip Some for the driver, the passenger And the rest of the trigger men

• published: 07 Apr 2016
• views: 230