Soldier B
Soldier B - Protect Your Head lyrics
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[Intro: talking] Yeah, it's 2003 ya feel me Soldier B, fresh outta Camilla On this Camilla album Watch out for these crooked cops and these haters Cause they want your head So protect yourself, as well as your loved ones Yeah, yeah, turn it up, turn it up Yeah, yeah, turn it up [Verse 1] Better hide some straight to protect your head Cause they flamin, aimin them green doted infa reds Blood shed, cause of these haters, fakers, and these busters We real thugs, the G, V and ten got hustlers And them monsters, nothin but some hard hitters Rich figures, bustin killer, straight wig splitters If you want us boy, you better come and get us Cause we ain't slippin, tipsy off a gallon of Henny Leave shots all up in your back in 'em So when your fallin, shots rippin out your cop billy Come through the ceiling, hollow tips, bustin through bricks Edge the clips, teflons and big slugs Old guns protectin their head from young bugs Like us, and now your sold and turn to dust All because you protect your head off a repercussion Watch out for a young hustler that's out there bustin Protect your head [Chorus x2] Better hide some straight to protect your head Cause them vest is, I'm gettin tell you, you gonna wind up dead Blood shed, ain't got no name on them teflons Steppin stones'll put soldiers all around your home Protect your dome [Verse 2] Better hide some straight to protect your head Cause that hot lead aimin there for your forehead Buck shots red, havin you scared, duckin, runnin Young hustlers ain't playin, they payin real money They have you wait on Sunday and get moved on Monday Then go to London, chillin with a bundle of honeys That's how they runnin, mandatory no chest shots Just takin braids, bald heads and bald spots Them head shots, leavin ya dead on the spot Protect they head, less they get no props On burnt blocks, watchin out for crooked cops And burnt blocks, protectin my girl from head shots I'm hot, hot [Chorus] [Verse 3] Better hide some straight to protect your head That's what I said, haters yeah, they want us dead But I ain't mad, over somethin they never had But who's the last, everybody they gettin blasted Hellish bastard, mamas' cryin, they close caskets If you drastic, rock sheets and black plastic Bustas is scandalous, pushin some dimes I'm in back, with some fine tang So for me I hate gettin active, hustlin and rappin One guy ask if he could smoke my ashes and I ain't laughin Infiltrators they out there craftin, protectin families No wonder them haters wanna blast me, but they can't find me Eyes shinin leavin ya blinded, criminal minded All black, creepin in silence, the world is mine Hustlers rhymin and big timin, protect your mind Lord tryna show us a sign (sign), we all dyin (dyin) Lord tryna show us a sign (sign), we all dyin (dyin) [Chorus x4]