Screwed Up Click (S.U.C.)

Screwed Up Click (S.U.C.) - All World lyrics

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[Big Pokey:]

It's a bunch of niggaz, knocking my hustling

I'm on the grind going hard out the trunk, like Rocky when rushing

A empty clip, the only thang stop me from busting

When I roll nigga folding, it's not a discussion

Ask yourself this question, what's colder than Dina

It's a bunch of money on my den, fuck rolling a beamer

Go hard or go home, hoe you know I'm a dreamer

With the heart to go and get it, how you know I'm a schemer

Sensei need a bad bitch, I'm looking for Trina

Put this ham in they yams, have her looking for Xena

We hit the do' like a battle ram, me and my team

I pop bottles every now and then, but me I'm a leaner

It's a small world, play pussy get fucked

Like a call girl, bout to fold it like a tall world

Fuck what they say-a, dog I'm some'ing like a playa

Bitches know me everywhere, motherfucker I'm all world



[Mike D:]

I'm some'ing like a playa, some'ing like a pimp

Catch me at Papa Deauxxx, eating lobsters and shrimps

Y'all know who it is, and I'm right back at it

It's Boss Hogg Corleone, now come on ride with me daddy

Across the state line, I do it every time

It ain't hard to tell, how I'm on my grind

I'm like a Carl Smitty, in his prime time

But you can get it there, we riding for the same side

Then you done fucked up, gave me life again

MJ when I point em out, I want em all dead men

It's the Don, but every nigga in my click a boss

From Den Den to Lil' Duke, and Big H.A.W.K.

Clay-Doe, 6-4, can't forget Bamino

Red D and Rhino, 3-2 and Danny Boy

C to the F to the E

Get your mind right trick, when you fucking with me

I'm all world, imagine just starving my baby girls

Niggaz ain't ready, I'ma let the K hurl

You done fucked up, and let me grab a couple hundred

And in a minute, I'ma go on ahead and start stunting

For the summer, riding down on these cock-a-roaches

Man they shouldn't of talked down, on the Costra Nosta

Boss Hogg Corleone, that's me

The black Osama, taking over this biatch



[Chris Ward:]

It's the M.O.B., H-O double G

S.U.C., raw ass nigga

I'm that ghetto ass, gutter gangsta

Gritty, Y.S.P. ass nigga

All these new comers, wanna be like me

I can't help it, y'all get off my D-I-C

That's from me to you nigga, stamp signed and sealed

Bout to let these niggaz know, that I grind for scrill

All these niggaz round here cap, like I don't shine for real

That's why I walk around, lookng like I just signed a deal

Got bout 40 on my chest, a dime on my wrist

And three quarts of that dime, on the same hand's fist

I make them all boppers, be like girl look at Chris

That nigga other hand, look like frozen yellow piss

Is this, what it's about

These lyrics that I spit out, is nasty once they get out

I contaminate the streets, I contaminate the booth

I contaminate the South, when I speak the truth

You might see in some'ing, looking like a nasty mustard stain

The top is butterscotch, and the guts is caine

All these motherfuckers asking, what's my name

It's C. Ward motherfucker, it's a must I came

My nust they hang, just like my Boss Hogg chain

You see I'm in it for the change, motherfuck the fame nigga



[E.S.G.:]

Now guess who back and I'm hungry, I ain't aten my lunch

Always into something, bad apple out the bunch

Fuck a punchline, I'm throwing hate back like jabs

Knocking fake slim niggaz, off the motherfucking slab

Hate nigga game I'ma take it back, wanna know how I got my stacks

Pablo came and gave me packs, stuck on mack and swang in Lacs

Blue and yellow stones, it's hard to look

Ice bucket on my chest, smelling like master cook

At the age 15, young guerilla in the jungle

Moving quarter ki's, and weed for my uncle

Call me Ashton Kutcher, bitch niggaz I punk ya

Houston Tex call me Shrek, I'm a S.U.C. monster

Mike Jones had it wrong, see Screw is the Don

Whoever up next, only carried the baton

Put in city where I'm from, I was born in the booth

Had a murder charge in 9-5, I ain't scared to shoot

Candy red or blue coupe, I'm so executive

CEO status, you need a code where I live

I left the gates open, you cupcakes hoping

That you could rob the real Boss, I never leave my safe open

Leave your face smoking, I'm a gangsta to the fullest

A box of cigarillos, a new box of bullets

So when I pull it, you bitch niggaz know the song

Me and Mike D, sipping purple and Patrone

Back back yep, in a 300 M's

Black, with the motherfucking all black rims

Known for serving fiends, straight dropping screens

These devils trying to clip my wings, call me Constantine

Bitch I be a pimp, I ain't slowing down

It's E and the Boss Hogg, bitch we hold it down

Yeah bitch niggaz, you niggaz all girls

E.S.G., Poke and Mike D yeah we all world



[talking:]

Uh E.S.G., what's up MJ

Take Over year, right here

I got my nigga in here, Lil' 3rd

Bout to wreck this bitch



[Lil' 3rd:]

I'm the Cloverland's finest, I ain't talking bout body-wise

Armageddon 16's on the rise, and body guards

Stones on my chest, change colors like models eyes

Blowing kush smoke, purple syrup slanging them powder pounds

Fired up down proof, and the slash is motorized

Can't let niggaz see it, cause these boys is motomized

Style is mobster, West is saying C. Whoadie ride

E.S.G. and Mike D, pull up swanging the Rover wide

Claim Screwed Up Click, but you niggaz not notarized

Tails stuck in they ass, when a nigga get notified

Fuck squashing the beef, cause Lil' 3rd fa sho to ride

That boy hunt pump shit, I can see it in both his eyes

K doing FED time, while I ain't thinking wise

Mean boxing game, AK and a shank and nine

King of Cloverland, it ain't nothing to compromise

Sweet as a honey bun, and you filled up with bunch of lies

If you a G, why you traumatized

A lil' fame got this nigga head, big as a Hummer tire



[Grace:]

Put the chase all in your face, and rap at pace like them tommy guns

Busting your discussion, go-getter making suckers run

Pimping pens for ends, setting trends one of the ones

Day one dirt doer, underground like C and Bun

Bring it on, rep the click and stay standing strong

Calculator's what they call me, I'm the one that they counting on

Garunteed like F, underground funky like bad breath

Game runner give it to em, lay em down like bad health

We steady rapping for Screw, salute a flag that's blue

Until I'm gone it's on, like yellow west keep it true

Ya see I'm repping like I'm stepping, busting like auto weapons

That same boy G-R-A-C-E, got them Screw Heads recollecting

Another day another dub, Kalluminatti still riding high

Till the end and this the year, to tell them hoe niggaz bye-bye

I'm so for real with the skills, equipped and ready to kill

You flip like floozies in heels, rat and roaches catching steel
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Language: English

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