Letra

Livin' on fat pockets, on flat with the gat Rollin' around a nine deuce Cadillac Still got my homies to watch my back And they'll smoke ya ass if you wanna come and chat That's why some pigs and the kids come sweatin', they follow A hollow point shell's hard to swallow Why wallow when you come to roll on? I put the clip And before I bring ya ass on (whatcha gon' do?) Kickin' dust on your head like I bust My grip surrounded, I'm about to get rushed, I'm brushed with death How many shells stuffed in my closet with my big Cognacs? Cut When the shit goes down, ya better be ready (when the shit goes down) When the shit goes down, ya better be ready (when the shit goes down) When the shit goes down, ya better be ready (when the shit goes down) When the shit goes down, ya better be ready (ya better be ready) I told the boys, "Get that sawed off glock" And the rest of the gats As I strapped on the bullet-proof vest Boom, I think I got one to the chest Hot damn, I didn't wanna kill a man shit I still stand tall with that Hill Clan Y'all better stand back, niggas' 'bout to fall I'm comin' out blastin' like Yosemite Sam Get the cheese and the bread for the ham When the shit goes down, ya better be ready (when the shit goes down) When the shit goes down, ya better be ready (when the shit goes down) When the shit goes down, ya better be ready (when the shit goes down) When the shit goes down, ya better be ready (ya better be ready)
Writer(s): Larry Muggerud, Louis M. Freeze, Lawrence Emmett Dickens Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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