Violent - Too Short, Mistah F.A.B.

Ay, F.A.B., mayne, what’s going on out here, nigga?

Niggas out here robbing niggas

Running up on niggas, knocking niggas down, nigga

Niggas is not taking no shit out here in the Bay, mayne

It’s like real muthafuckin' crazy right now, nigga

Rap niggas, street niggas, square niggas

Niggas is getting real out here

What’s going on here, F.A.B.

I said this drink in my cup got feeling violent

This pill that I popped got me feeling violent

This thang on my hip got me feeling violent

(«Hi, kids, do you like violence?»)

Your bitch kinda wet, looking like an island

She on something, I can see her eyelids

Keak tryna tell me ‘bout some shit that I did

I’m getting juiced and I’m feeling violent

Nigga, I don’t give a fuck ‘bout getting kicked out this club

Every nigga that I’m with ‘bout to turn the fuck up

C.T.

on the beat, man, you know that shit slap

That’s your freak on the beat ‘bout to make her ass clap

Give a fuck he gets mad—pussy nigga, do something

You a sucka, you a sissy, you ain’t ‘bout to nothing

You a Cookie, I’m a Lucious;

Eazy-E, bitch, I’m Ruthless

We go stupid like it’s still '06, you a doofus, bitch, you’re useless

After I fuck, man, I call that bitch a Uber

I’ll slide on your squad like a kid on a scooter

And your bitch on my dick from the rooter to the tooter

You an Internet thug, you only hard on a computer

Fuck your bitch then I boot her, bust one on her hooters

Leave her in the Boondocks, Aaron McGruder

Shrunk up like a tutor, act like I never knew her

I leave a punk bitch on ice like a cooler

I said this drink in my cup got feeling violent

This pill that I popped got me feeling violent

This thang on my hip got me feeling violent

(«Hi, kids, do you like violence?»)

Your bitch kinda wet, looking like an island

She on something, I can see her eyelids

Keak tryna tell me ‘bout some shit that I did

I’m getting juiced and I’m feeling violent

Security better go on somewhere, ‘Fuck you mean ain’t no hats?'

Bitch, I already bought a table, and it cost me two racks

Better have my bottles right, and the chasers on point

Got some ‘woods rolled up, got some papers for a joint

Fuck them freeloading bitches—they ain’t chip in, they ain’t sippin'

$hort, go on with all that cool shit, talkin' 'bout I’m trippin'

Muthafuckin' right I’m trippin', they done charged me some bands

So if a bitch wanna sip, I bet she comin' out her pants

Bitch better dance, fuck a groupie and a stan

«Get away from me, blood!

I don’t want no pictures with no man!

All these hoes up in here, and you tryna take a flick?

Better knock you a bitch and get the fuck off my dick!»

Crack a nigga in his head with a champagne bottle

Little Brodie keep a .40 and that .40 filled with hollows

We gon' kick this bitch off, we startin' a riot

You know them Oakland niggas crazy, bitch, we violent

I said this drink in my cup got feeling violent

This pill that I popped got me feeling violent

This thang on my hip got me feeling violent

(«Hi, kids, do you like violence?»)

Your bitch kinda wet, looking like an island

She on something, I can see her eyelids

Keak tryna tell me ‘bout some shit that I did

I’m getting juiced and I’m feeling violent

Get the fuck out my face, punk bitch

Get the fuck out my space, broke nigga

Get the fuck out my face, punk bitch

I don’t wanna talk to no niggas

Get the fuck out my face, punk bitch

Get the fuck out my space, broke nigga

Get the fuck out my face, punk bitch

I don’t wanna talk to no niggas, BITCH!

I’m from the Town;

got my DJ in the house, DJ Slow Poke

He from the Rich—what's up, Richmond?

What’s up, Frisco?

What’s up, EPA?

What’s up, Berkeley?

What’s up, Oakland?

Nigga

We out here, mayne—I see you Vallejo, uh

Say something—we riding all the way to Sac tonight, mayne

What’s up with it, baby?

Fuck wit' it…