Screwed Up Click - Hate In Yo Blood lyrics

(feat. H.A.W.K., Big Pokey, Lil' O)

[talking]

Yeah it's gutter nigga, Fat Rat Wit Da Cheeze nigga

Southwest nigga, Screwed Up Click nigga whoa

[Lil' O]

This is mean rap, hop out of the Houptie burn a nigga flee the scene rap

Chop a nigga head off with, call it guillotine rap

Motherfuck you pussy, if you ain't about your green stacks

Lil' O's a hustler, what

This is for my niggaz, with the coedine in the cup

And my hustlers in the trap, moving rocks up on the cut

Money over bitches nigga, keep your money up

Motherfuck a piece of pussy, they bop when they see the truck

On 24's, nigga I got plenty hoes

If you want a bunch of bitches, nigga get you plenty do'

They come with the territory, nigga wanna hear a story

Bout how a real nigga named O, came to glory

First thing first I got superdrive, dog I'm not your average dude

Lil' bro, I'm super live

Hopped out the Lac, on 4's like Super Fly

Play a nigga like a hoe, I garuntee do or die you got me fucked up

See me in the big Benz, getting sucked up

By a yellow hair under there, love to swallow nut

If I shoot or miss, then I'm gonna follow up

I got killas on the payroll, don't make me call 'em up

It is not a thang, come through popping thangs

Dog there's a price on your head, and I drop the change pussy

No I'm not a joke, I'm not broke

Man I let the thang smoke, I'll leave ya dead like the Pope don't push me nigga

[H.A.W.K.]

Ten-nine-eight-seven-six-five-fo'

That was the countdown, to some monstrous flow

You already know, I got monstrous do'

And the ice that I rock, got a monstrous glow

6-4 weighing, and a 2-84

And I throw a blow, that'll knock 'em all to the flo'

Remarkable, not your average dude

And I spit shit, that makes parpalegics screwed

All H.A.W.K. do, is make strategic moves

And the flames that I spit, are so hard to refuse

If you confuse, peep the context clues

Or was it like Larry Hughes, on my P's and Q's

I'm bolt to this screw, with a pair of pliers

And most of these rappers, are compulsive liars

Claiming they the best, since Hov' retired

They need to be comedians, like Richard Pryor

Show me the money, like Jerry McGuire

And I'll spit a flow, that set the booth on fire

You might of seen my posters, stickers and fliers

I'm the five-star general, of the Screw empire

You the type of nigga, that's under required

Cause skills like mine, are really hard to acquire

Pouring up a deuce, it'll piece the pie-a

You just gotta admit it, the kid's on fire

[Big Pokey]

These other playas hurt, they be hugging my belly

And a nigga tired of eating, peanut butter and jelly

I treat mic's like confeddi, clock punching is steady

Don't have to rap everyday, cause my Columbians is heavy

Go with it I'ma fade it, if the money is heavy

Bet the title too line 'em up, Hummers and Cheves

I like my money like lettuce nigga, crispy and green

Conversation for a bitch, make her piss in her jeans

A grown can't be chilling, with no chicken or teen

Even if she thick in the jeans, thick in between

Already found my queen, and she gave me a princess

Soon to be a nigga bride, watch the backside slide

Watch the backside glide, when I'm working the three-wheel

Sensei Mob boss, M.O.B. real

Girl get your hair did, peticure and a refill

In the morning, I'ma check up on my nigga and be real

For my niggaz on lock, Black Magic D.Hill

Nonproof, Hard Plack, Erik and P. Real

Nigga need three shields, and a vest to put on

Go on and stunt, I got a clip that'll shoot for a month

Grinding, everything shining in the diamond

Tee-tiller, block in the wind like it's a limon

Fuck consignment, we ain't giving you shit

S.U.C. means suck my dick, motherfucker