They Can't - Mo3

Nigga I’m cutthroat, on, nigga

Fuck you talking 'bout?

(Woah-oh, oh)

Trey walk 'em down

Gang, gang

Hit us up, out on a nigga, get him outta here

We hit him by his head

Prosecuted on my ho name (Damn)

Duckin' them bitches, tryna get wit 'em

Yeah, I gotta be swift

Load up the clips, finish they whole gang

I ain’t got no shame

Thinkin' about my enemy when I be reminiscin' 'bout Lil' Bubba, ho,

they gotta die (They gotta die)

I’m tryna send all of them bitches to the afterlife

Get crucified with this choppa then go chop to Christ

(They getting wacked tonight)

Body for body, call it, I got it

It’s not a lot of niggas who don’t know better (Nah)

Respect the murderer, gun power

We kill every nigga standing in front of us

Bitch you dancing with a daredevil, .38 special

Nothing but killer tactics like I’m trained for the Marines

I got a problem, I be on somethin'

'Cause every time I see the opps, I get excited like pass me that .30

Spin around, I’m finna smoke one (Baow)

I’m the holy one

I’ll put a whole in somethin'

Dolo, I don’t need a gang

I be lurking, huh (Lurking, huh)

Police in my house wanna search for guns

And yeah I still got all my dirty ones (What?)

Disrespect on the gang, you get flipped

You can tell the way I look, I make 'em scared

Oh you nervous, huh?

I make 'em shut the fuck up if he ain’t tryna step (Shh)

He keep playing and I tell him get a shirt or somethin'

Fill the churches up (Yeah)

Tell 'em all I’ma kill 'em

I don’t need a hitta, just all my gorillas (Nah)

Father forgive me but I gotta take 'em

Send 'em to they maker

Ooh, I’m too official (Baow)

Talk to the devil for days, he told me to pray (Baow)

He’ll put a nigga on a picture

Ya whole neighborhood wearing them shirts

Talking about how they love you and miss you, yeah

I’m that sto' on the corner (Corner)

I’m that crack in the pot (All the way)

I’m that strap that you got (All the way)

I’m the one that they don’t wanna— (Nah-ah-ah-ah)

Cross the line, when it’s time to sling that iron (Baow)

(Why, I-I-I-I)

They can’t fuck with me (Can't fuck with me)

Can’t fuck with me (Can't fuck with me)

Can’t fuck with me (Can't fuck with me)

They can’t fuck with me (Can't fuck with me)

Can’t fuck with me (Why, I-I-I-I)

Can’t fuck with me (Oh, uh-uh)

Can’t fuck with me (Why, I-I-I-I)

Taliban, I’m the murder man

This the Klan, think you heard of them

Radio tripping, don’t wanna give me a chance

Haters be lurking, and ain’t scared of them

I can do the murder dance

Store that Beretta run under my sweater, run up a devil, tell' em that it’s

rock-a-bye

My hittas thinkin' like it’s lethal

Pull up on side of the car, talkin' to the reaper

My young nigga get 'em gone, talkin' for a feature

Tell' them niggas it’s murder whenever I catch

Want a problem in they section, hit us, going extra, yeah

My gorillas they gon' fetch 'em, yeah

And that choppa, it got extra legs

Caught a opp on the freeway, did him dirty, left him brain dead

When I jump in that water, it rain man

Bitch I’m cutthroat, this gangland (On gang)

I’m that sto' on the corner (Corner)

I’m that crack in the pot (All the way)

I’m that strap that you got (All the way)

I’m the one that they don’t wanna— (Nah-ah-ah-ah)

Cross the line, when it’s time to sling that iron (Baow)

(Why, I-I-I-I)

They can’t fuck with me (Can't fuck with me)

Can’t fuck with me (Can't fuck with me)

Can’t fuck with me (Can't fuck with me)

They can’t fuck with me (Can't fuck with me)

Can’t fuck with me (Why, I-I-I-I)

Can’t fuck with me (Oh, uh-uh)

Can’t fuck with me (Why, I-I-I-I)