Luniz

Luniz - So Much Drama (feat. Nik Nack) lyrics

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Verse 1 *(Nik Nack)*

Nik Nack is in the house for the four
My niggas locked up, left a kilo.... it's good as sold
Stole
Gumbo pot creamery
Rise to the top
My limo even slide through on the late night for that high
I wanna zoom-zoom, bumpin Luni-Tunes
Candy paint K-5
Bitches I stay high
Playa hate
Callin me a balla, shot calla
Cuz I'm slangin all the major weight
Blam!!
Close the door to my residence
Po-po start searchin low, but found no evidence
They tryin to wash me an our county like Downy
Quick to pick a nigga Nack up like Downty
Don't clown me
Bitch!!
Dike hoes wanna lick my clit
But end up gettin stuck in the gut, wit a dick
Down fo my shit
Tricks wanna get em up wit me
Because they heard their baby-daddy fucked wit me
But I'm out on you hoes
Wit the 10 g belt
The only thing I'm concentratin on is checkin my mail
What the hell??!! what the fuck??!!
Do you mean
Your boyfriend is a dope fiend, an he smoked up all my ice cream
Oops upside yo head fo gettin licked like a lolli-pop
Let yo nigga cut, where's my shit, now you get lolli-hopped
By everybody on the turf
Oh yeah about that skrilla.... hell yeah that welfare check is mines on
The first

*(chorus)* x2

It's so much drama in the streets
An I can't tell you why the funk be deep!
Do you really know where ya going to
An do you like the things that life is showin you??

Verse 2 *(Knumskull)*

Fuck around an trust yo underfolks
Like dope fiends, you leave yo cream wit
Post, you come back an yo whole bundle gone
Or this, niggas add dirt to the list
Getaway clean
But one wanna keep everything
He gots to cook it, cuz we need the good shit to post
Tryin to bake a whole thing, this fool claim that the pot broke
But here goes 5 g's an dubbs
You can probably catch mo cuz I chop slugs
Blood bubbles, so I charge it to the game wit no shame
Even though we got away wit a whole thang of cocaine
I got fucked in the deal, sumpthin cool
(Why meee!!)
Cuz that 5 g's he gave me was boo-boo
Too much drama in the streets of the Oak
Niggas will tell you what they want you to hear
Not what you should know
Instead of sellin mo cream
Niggas is sellin mo dreams
Lyin juss to kick it sellin weight wit no fiends
Now this is sumpthin that I don't understand
Why the FUCK would that nigga Master P call himself the Ice Cream Man
BITCH!! Don't you hear the muzik??
That's jankie as fuck
He musta been
Off the fluid,
Niggas steadily tryin to take shit from the next man
Don't playa hate, juss give a pound an let the best stand
It's too much skrilla in the Land
Fo niggas to be hatin
Captian Savin
I juss don't understand

Verse 3 *(Yukmouth)*

Cuz when I was a youngsta, money was so damn hard to find
But dealt wit my young comrads an we was deadly on the grind
When I wanted to bubble, fools start trippin talkin shit
They never woulda thought I'd be, the mutha fuckin wit all of the grip

Check this out here you jive ass turkeys man. Ho's slobberin-obberin in
The O. There's only one Mobb man, don't hop on the back of the Ice Cream
Truck an get yo ass booted off

I can't stand punks on a man hunt
That destroy
Lay low, cuz my four-four
Will make yo ass glow, like Bruce Leroy
(sho nuff)
Since they bigga
Many figga that I can't throw
But they don't know about this bole-legged skinny nigga
Mad because I'm foldin grip
Plus rollin thick
Still up on that late night loadin clips
Holdin shit
To myself
Shotgun bullets be bad fo them health
So save that gang-bang shit on somebody else
Where I peep thugs
Have drugs to sell you
Don't fuck wit the L-U-N-I-Z that's what they tell you
Peep the murder we wrote
We roll wit C-Note an Noo-Trybe to fools slide
At my show because I make the whole fuckin O hooride
Slide to get the remedy
M.D.,
Twamp, twamp
Make you wanna pump, pump on the enemy
Been havin suicidal tendecies the whole day
Alazae will have a nigga on lock down like O.J.,
(slang-a-gang-of-caine)
Like the Cubans
They hate when I'm crusin
Don't fuck around an get yo life ruined fool
So take yo last look
You get yo ass whooped
Rolex took
Cuz broke niggas make the best crooks
You best look over your shoulder, highrolla
Wit that cola, cuz my soldiers come wit mo folks then yours does
No bluers or blunders
We fed to head wit mo bread than Wonder
An strapped wit a Mac-11 an go under

*(chorus)* 4X
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Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Released in: 1995

Language: English

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