EYYYYYYYYY!

["You don't wanna do dat!" is heard in the background of the whole song]

[Trillville ad-libing in background]

YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!


[Chorus]

All that, talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that shit

Talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that shit

Talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that shit

Talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin talkin that shit

Man up motherfucker, man UUUUUUUP

Man up motherfucker, man UUUUUUUP

Man up motherfucker, man UUUUUUUP

Man up motherfucker, man UUUUUUUP


[Don P.]

Now eve'body wanna fuckin have they own label

Wouldn't on the first shit to bring to the table

They in they own fantasy somethin like a fable

Handicap situations all disabled

I shut 'em down, like a computer

Cause ain't nobody fuckin wit the super producer

?Coreleone? (yea), Trill town representatives

(FUCK Don P!) Man some of y'all too sensitive

[*gun noises*]

But ya right, FUCK me! But ain't 'nam day you gon touch me

Talkin bout, "Don P, why you buckin?

Man you need to chill out get to the money"

.....I already got it!

and I'ma Trill nigga I handle ALL my problems

Besides, I'm all about respectin

I'ma man, before anybody checkin


[Chorus]


[Lil' Atlanta]

What you starin at? This ain't no free show

You gon make me cock back, hit ya ass in the door

You don't wanna do dat, hear dem thangs clit-clak

Goes in ya thru the front, comes out thru the back

Come and make my night! Love to talk but hate to fight

Was you a bitch? I was a bitch, it don't go away ova night

Man up motherfucker man up!

I told you once before motherfucker stand UP!


[Chorus]


[Dirty Mouth]

Now if you niggaz keep playin, you gon make a nigga tear a hole

Right thru yo chest, is yo flesh, I can see yo soul

You don't wanna DO dat! I'ma hit you wit a bat

Talkin all dat shit nigga and I'ma hit you wit da gack

Seventeen times out da barrel on my .45

Four plus five equals nine goin thru yo spine

Sit yo ass down hoe! Make a move you gotta go

Erase you off da map and beat yo ass at yo own show

Ain't playin no games wit you lames when it comes to gangsta shit

Throwin up my middle finger, grabbin on my own dick

Niggaz thank they slick take yo pick, which one you WANT

bullets flyin thru yo house or goin straight thru yo door?

Make yo ass choke wit different strokes of my hand movements

Say dat your a G, in these streets, man you gotta prove in

Next, time I see you talkin talkin shit

I'ma rearrange yo mouth and put yo ass in a ditch, BITCH


[Chorus]


["You don't wanna do dat!"]