Scarface

Scarface - You Don't Hear Me lyrics

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And I'ma do ya bad  black
 And when I come  I'm bustin up niggas to hear me  black
 Ya should of never let a nigga see
 if there was niggas and bitches and bitches and niggas that hated me
 Huh  I waited for my date to come of age
 and now I'm of age I can't escape the fuckin front page
 So I guess that nigga D is up to hit again
 I kicks the funky shit and coke  and stupid like I'm Gilligan
 I'm P, supposed to hit a lick for a jack
 The only thing I gained is the pain of niggas comin back
 Nigga lookin for they shit, aggravated and pissed
 Niggas they can't fuck with my clique
 I'm here to break em off for chunk
 A D-E-A-T-H-L-Y, a motherfuckin punk
 And I be rollin with the brass
 Don't answer with the ziggers in your hood, he break your neck to roll a
 pass, nigga
 Don't even stop to say 'Whattup?' cos I bust for the fuck
 And pay some quick to light a motherfucker up
 Next time you stop me on your block, I hope you leave the place
 or be the next to meet the Lord face-to-face
 Nigga, I ain't the one to take no bullshit
 Cos see a nigga like the D is game to empty out the full clip
 So when I come for ya, act like ya know
 Sittin motherfuckin smooth to the curb but you don't hear do'

 Chorus:

 I'ma bring ya to ya asshole (uh)
 Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
 Bustin on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me do'
 (But you don't hear me do')
 Bring ya to ya asshole (uh)
 Do it like the G-to-O (yeah)
 Bustin on that ass but still I see that you don't hear me do'

 It's time to fuck em up, here it comes, BLAST, nigga!
 Thump to your chest and they comin out your ass, nigga
 I grew apart, livin my life as a criminal
 Niggas G to kill but still I see that you don't hear me do'
 So I'ma serve it to ya fat, hit the deck, mate
 Hit the deck mate, call me Flipper when I checkmate
 D-um divertin nine, Tre-9, full Glock, Glock
 My Glock makin sounds and it don't stop
 So nigga pass the swisha quick
 and I'ma blaze til the motherfucker burn me off my fingertips
 Cos, see a nigga gotta saty high
 I try to smoke til I can't smoke and then I won't smoke
 But still I got my fingers on my shit
 and click, click, click, ya die, die, die, ya dead, bitch!
 You tried to test the wrong nigga, be a tested
 Straight from St.Paul but clockin G's down in Texas
 Some think I'm talk cos I play it cool
 but I ain't the average motherfucker, I do the shit that niggas won't do
 Huh, like pistol whip a woodie for his bank
 Then after that I gate and grab his bitch and do the same thang
 And I will pain up the asshole
 Collectin grips on my drips as I stroll but you don't hear me do'

 Chorus

 Ain't no mistakin what I'm bringin, you motherfuckers still ain't had
 enough
 So I'ma continue to break you off for proper ass chunk
 May it be 9, may it be a gauge, may it be a shank
 Any way you come I'm in your motherfuckin shit, mate!
 Huh, a nigga bustin caps, smokin fires
 quick to bring it to your ass and keep on goin til your ass die
 And it ain't no runnin down dem backstreets
 cos I got slugs to catch em with Carl Lewis on the track meet
 Huh, and still you wanna test a nigga so
 Audi 5, nigga, hate to see ya go but you don't hear me do'

 Chorus

 Yeah, check it
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Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

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Language: English

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