Geto Boys

Geto Boys - Dyin Wit'cha Boots On lyrics

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 Trouble seems to catch a motherfucker with his cards down

 Gotta keep my drawers up, shit's gettin hard now

 These motherfuckin cops be plantin shit on these niggas

 Simply cause these niggas got bank accounts that's bigga

I just can't get no peace from u motherfuckin rollers

 Everytime I pull my Benz or what watch cha pull me over

 I'm sick of motherfuckers who be checkin Whitey's coke tip

 Blacker than a motherfucker, sweat me bout` dope sip

 Niggas just take your cut and get yo ass out my face

 The only thing you probably get from me is a cock sucking pistol case

 Unless you plan on plantin a lil' somethin in my shit

 Just because you ain't got shit, bitch

 Give em a badge and a trigger and that makes em figure

 That they can fuck with a million dolla nigga

 They got u mixed up, fixed up in the Segas, shookin Indo

 Getting fucked up in the gank hole

 The only way you'll whip that motherfucker is when you whip that

 Motherfucker

 And we choke the motherfucker (Me Stuck the motherfucker!)

 So when you hear my song and wanna get it on

 You better come prepared motherfucker. You dyin wit cha boots on.

 Chorus: Put your foot in my shit and let me try on your hood

         Dyin wit cha boots on

         Put your foot in my shit and let me try on your hood

         Yeah

  Interlude(prison guard talkin' to inmate):

    Guard: Do you know how many years you're facin inside?

           25 to life and that's on the real

           So you better snitch on your partner

    Inmate: Fuck that! It was Brad Dawg, I ain't goin out by myself.

            Niggas getting caught, doin time so they snitchin

            They pickin niggas up on funky suspicion

            We'll be goin down for some questionin we think

            And end up gettin hit wit the fuckin kitchen sink

            Rackteer and laundering, Kingpin wondering

            If they got some unsolved murders then give them some of them

            Just because we're niggas and they figure we're no smarter

            We sell each other albums, start frattin our partners

            They start bringin up shit that happened back in 85

             And then comes the largest jury bitch they fuckin time

             You might as well play the state

             Cos you come to day for day

             And sellin out your homeboys ain't the shit

             Cos ya'll gon have to die in this bitch, bitch 

             Lobbin wit cha white suit on 

             And dyin wit cha motherfuckin boots on

 Put ya foot in my shit and let me try on ya hood
Get this song at:
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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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