THE CLICK

THE CLICK - We Don't Fuck Wit' Dat lyrics

[B-Legit]

Ya see I'm nuttin' but a player call me bad news bear

And everywhere a nigga go you know I check a hoe there

And on my second time thru, you know how I do

I get some head, and some ends and I'm gone by 2

I got soundcheck bitch, the shows is at 6

So when you coming in, bring your womanfriends

I got a few dogs posted at my telly

D-Shot, Tap, Young Mugz and Celly

And we gone try to tear the fuckin' roof of something

We was backstage smokin' and some hoes was thumpin'

A bitch got mad cause she didn't get chose

Reached back like a pimp and slapped the hoe

Your nigga went wild when he first seen that

Pulled out a sack and rolled one fat

We was back to the tale cause we bail on them boyz in blue

Fuckin' wit this Click crew

And the worst things that happens when your out of the state

They lock a nigga down and take away his dank

It makes me can't thank, I gets nervous and sick

Fiendin' for a motherfuckin' fix

[Chorus:]

[E-40]

Smoke and we will go

Puffin' on indo

So put that back

Cause we don't fuck wit that

[B-Legit]

I left Minnesota cause the spot was tired

Hit Louiville and the spot was fire

Old school sittin' on straight laced kicks

Reminding me of 1986

Fools burnin' rubber, fuck some switches

Niggas from the bay smokin' up on bitches

B was on the gash, smashin' yo

Hoes passin' out cause there to much smoke

Gary, Indiana, bitch gone in a minute

I let you hit my weed and it's straight up shittin'

In your draws, Guess jeans and all

And then you had no one, give E a call

But he called back and wasn't fuckin' wit you

Cause hoes down South know good voo-doo

Fuck around and have your ass sprung like Eddie

Period blood mixed in your spaghetti

And if I could I would roll a vega

From Hillside, Cali to the Get Low Playaz

You niggas light it for me and I'm pass it to Quinn

And let it out when you get to chin

[Chorus]

I'm finally hittin' Cali after 3 weeks gone

Than ran out of boomb and I'm glad to be home

Now who on my phone, Dante or Bruce

I be there in a minute to do what we do

See, it's a triviant game, cause we gone smoke

And blow big dubs from young body and all

And I can't give a fuck if you're drunk or smoked

Imma give you a 5 we gone light the ...

In to the ... told the shit on the street

Some of tha homies that be restin' in peace

The shit won't cease till I see D

I know my homie got a fat blunt for me

Pine apple juice, malibu rum

1501 get your dickhead done

When it gets like that, you know I gots to fuck

Or maybe kcikback and get my dickhead sucked

I won't ask for much, just ass and guts

And brand new speakers for my oldschool cut

A big fat sack of that dohja

So I can get smokin' like I'm 'posed to

[Chorus]

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