T-rock - That'll Work (Wanna Get Some Part 2) lyrics

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[Verse 1]

Your house of representatives, I lay down when clashing

Pulverizing player haters, this is my passion

Chopping competition like a lawn-mower when thrashing

My weapons laying niggaz flat like OD's of aspirin

Murder bitches in the bed, strapped up with magnum

Semen is the weapon and I cock, aim, and blast them

After pussy pleasure, like a zip-lock, I trash them

Dispose of my affection when another nigga stab them

Down for the cause, seeing "Triple Bitches" fall

Headbussaz getting mauled, who the fuck you gonna call

No apologies, can't demolish me, this atrocity

Predicted by Nostradamous, and classical astrology

Devils go to hell, murdered dead in ATL

I'm the prick you built your church on, no way you will prevail

The beam from the tone, guillotine, niggaz' domes

Should've calculated game, no running when it's on


You boys wanna get it on, that'll work

It ain't no love being shown, that'll work

Cause we'll jack you for your stones that you worth

And when we get to cracking domes, that'll work

Lemme hit that weed, that'll work

Nigga hit that drank, that'll work

Nigga move them seeds, that'll work

Take them out that dank, that'll work

Come ride with me, that'll work

High-side with me, that'll work

Get high with me, that'll work

Smoke tai with me, that'll work

[Verse 2]

Another bitch I murder, blow away, Lord Sniff-a-Mous

That moving script-Montana bitch was never dangerous

Niggaz get fedi, and I'm ready, with machetes

Pull a drive-by, and ball off, like Mario Andretti (Brr-uck-em)

You diss on radio, I come with street polluted tactics

An automatic, hot as acid, when I pull and blast it

Your static left you dead, where you stand, fuck a casket

A casualty nigga relaxing on his air-mattress

You hataz slower, know a Tech war is my profession

Do quiet niggaz do more damage, when they bring aggression

I stayed in silency and thuggery, and learned a lesson

My smiff-n-wessen run the show, in streets of Armageddon

Another crazy bitch is braver, dingy shit is smelling

And Over-6 bitches, I split it over 50 melons

After the heat, my enemies repeat to be deceased

How could you bitches be elite, your strip in rip in pieces


[Verse 3]

A little static ain't a problem

Animalistic like a savage, when I rob them

Wretches get blown out they shoes, and we grown men

Millimeter chrome is the tool in the lion's den

I slayed in pieces, check this man, I'm glad as fuck

I'm gone, whack rappers on Posse songs

Fucking up my shine, trying to let the truth be known

Everybody left the 6, and now they sick

The click that I'm with is the shit, and we gone murder you (ha ha)

I done showed hella love, I done earned a million dubs

I done blasted at your enemies and left them in the mud

But you tried to cut my throat, pulling out stuff to keep from broke

Bitches tried to keep my royalties, to build and share coke

You the nigga in the thong, that you mentioned in the song

Talking in 3rd person about yourself, you got it wrong

Ain't no refuge, niggaz cracking up like test-tubes

For the next move, Juicy J'll get his flesh blew



Huh, you motherfuckers must've not knew who you was messing with or something?

I guess they though T-Rock was gonna fall like a bitch

But guess what nigga you ain't never fucked with a nigga like me

And when you fuck with me, I'm at you

[T-Rock imitating DJ Paul]

T-Rock man, what the fuck man, uh..

Damn man, my little bitty arm and shit


Yea I know why that motherfucker so small

cause you've been sticking that motherfucker up Juicy J ass

You bunch of gay motherfuckers

Fuck Three Six nigga, you can't fuck with A-Town

Thoroughbred, College Park, Area 51 Terrorists nigga

This is TBK on mine, Triple Bitch Killa

So fuck a small arm ass nigga like you

And fuck that gay ass nigga Juicy J

You the bitchiest nigga out the motherfuckers

You weak ass bastards

Fuck you nigga, go suck somebody else's dick

Cause I ain't with that shit
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Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?


Language: English

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