Intro - Overlapping ad libs *(Numskull & Yuknouth of the Luniz)*
Ha, ha, ha
Ay, ay, ay
Get out my face
MOB shit biatch
This is the MOB man
It's the Lu-Lun-iz
3 Times for li-uh
Agerman
Bart
Keak
When a n***a turn up the Hennessy bottles
Diggity M.O.B. baby
I'm so hurt!!
Neezy
Fa sheezy
Verse 1 *(Bart)*
Out for the cash then I hit away
Just a thug for the money, no love
Hit 'em up wit the blast
Put him in a bag and wrap him.... tucked
Verse 2 *(T-Luni of Cydal)*
It's all business
So when the pistol come bouncin' off yo head
Don't take it personal
Money makin' needs no rehearsin'
No n***a'll come wit disrespect and leave wit their head on their shoulders
Verse 3 *(Bart)*
MOB killaz connected from block to block
Re-cock the Glock, reset the dot
Heaters bean 'em
Repeat from Turf achievers
Verse 4 *(T-Luni of Cydal)*
We take action first 'cause talk is cheap
You gon' believe us
Time to floss some heat
Cut off the weak
You won't deceive us
Meta merchandise to murderize
Any and all
Many will fall
Verse 5 *(Bart)*
It's just a O.G. call, made from the B
When I step up, I'll betcha Mr. Sicka gon' get to creep
I gets to blast and laugh
Dumped the bodies in the bag
I hope I get to last
In this game of cash
Verse 6 *(T-Luni of Cydal)*
It's paraphernalia not paranoid
You fuckin' wit a pair of boys
That'll pump yo body full of lead
And watch it swell like you on some type of steroids
Verse 7 *(Bart)*
'Cause it ain't no sprayer like the one I got
Claimin' you just a player but the fakers I sock
Surround yo' weaved-head
Fuckin' wit the weed-head
Get left well-behaved
I'll bet you'll buy the clip
Talkin' all that lip
Without my strip
You're left with shit
Verse 8 *(T-Luni of Cydal)*
Head split and ass kicked in, chin shattered
Nobody could recognize you when they found ya
And they still don't know who downed ya
Verse 9 *(Bart)*
This shit gets deeper than you think, with a straight face
Lay you down and come up off them cavy cakes
Slow down better pump yo brakes
Don't know my click from a can of paint
These n***as won't last
When I, buck one in that ass
And hit the gate
I seen two more can't let 'em escape
Chorus *(T-Luni of Cydal)*
It ain't no room for no non-ass soldier n***as
And it's amazin' how the heat bring out the ho in n***as
When pistols blazin
It ain't no room for no non-ass soldier n***as
And it's amazin' how the heat bring out the ho in n***as
When pistols blazin
Verse 10 *(Keak da Sneak)*
Cashin' it
Like France up in Fres'
I'm in the Benz
Massage under the bitch's mouth, verbally
Converse how to get some ends
Bill to twen's
N***a I love them bighead Bens
Percolin' slurplin' off that gin
Hoes at the bus stop wanna get in
But they, foot soldiers
And I swang in like a Nova
Plus them bitches ain't tight
To make a right and pull my 600 over
Just as I thought, I looked through the corner of my eye
That it's them same n***as that bucked at me
But it wasn't my time to die
I... pull out my thang
Hit 'em wit a bang
Bury the remains
So bitch stay out my business and let the Benzo skirt and swang
Yellin' "MOB" clouded with ang'
For the n***a I slayed
I didn't love yo punk ass
And plus I'm tired of the pain
Like Cameo this shit is strange
A n***a do what he do
To get his whole neck and head rearranged
MOB members, make n***as think about what they doin'
Watch what you pursuin'
Fuck around and get yo whole career ruined
Chorus *(T-Luni of Cydal)*
It ain't no room for no non-ass soldier n***as
And it's amazin' how the heat bring out the ho in n***as
When pistols blazin
Verse 11 *(Yukmouth of the Luniz)*
Listen
Uh
Little boys and girls listen to me
It is I that you see
Gettin' high n***as be
Gettin' by on these streets
Do or die on these streets
Hit 'em high meet defeat
Weight tied across the feet
N***as lie beneath the creek
Some try but they don't eat, much food
Unless I run wit this fool that picks me up in a Lex, fuck school
Let's jet, live and direct
The Yay Area, they carry a 4-5 and a Tech
When they bury ya they pissin' on the side of yo' grave
No witnesses but a buckshot from inside of the gauge
And n***as be gettin' pepper sprayed up
Handcuffed and made to lay down
Circumstances, too skanless
Man less, to slang yay now
Strapped down
My shit be fully greased up
Sweep the muthafuckin' streets up
Cuz n***as ain't takin' no beat ups
They re-up wit the heaters
Leaders of the new school
But we don't bust a rhyme
We bust a nine
Muthafuckas find
Nines under the bridge in the Pacific tucked
MOB material
Scratch off the serial number
Fuckin' ballistics up
Road to the riches
Fuck hoes, bitches and sluts
Bubblicious Yuk
Beaucoup bucks
My n***as'll shoot you up
Chorus *(T-Luni of Cydal)*
It ain't no room for no non-ass soldier n***as
And it's amazin' how the heat bring out the ho in n***as
When pistols blazin
It ain't no room for no non-ass soldier n***as
And it's amazin' how the heat bring out the ho in n***as
When pistols blazin
Verse 12 *(Swoop G)*
Now what these n***as tryin' to do?
Get gunned down, stomped and pistol whipped? Ooh
If not, I suggest you get the fuck up out the West
Cause when it comes to gun play, there's no contest
I leave you wit two holes, one in yo dome, one in yo chest
And Elliot Ness, he wouldn't have made it on the West
And yes, I know you muthafuckas heard about us
Cause we was all on the news, for MOB-style murders
I crack a fool on top of his head, wit a strap
Told his bitch to come over here, she sat on my lap
Man this MOB shit, ain't never been no joke
You headed straight for the pen, or you end up smoked
That's why I keep a heater, on my passenger's seat
And I'm MOB affiliated
Uh, uh, I know you hate it
I'd rather be caught, with my heater
Then without my heater, it's just a misdemeanor
Verse 13 *(Eklipze of Cydal)*
I'm crackin' backs like a chiropractor
Come see a Cydal factor
Get up yo block wit rifle splatters
Clips longer than Bibles chapters
Too affront to be blastin'
And don't know nothin' about lastin'
And if he flashin' we gassin'
And leavin' his ass in a wagon
The last dragon, we're smashin'
Imagine missin' in action
Oakland assassin for cabbage
And disappear like Aladdin
And trappin' their ass inside a muthafuckin' cave
N***as that came wit their pistols
I got missiles and hand grenades
And some troopers wit bazookas ready to shoot you, do you in
Crushin' boulders wit soldiers, cook it and make it pure again
It's yo friend the Prince of Darkness, whenever the dark hits
I feel my heart get to beatin' and you bustas be my target
PM it's cold heart
Chorus *(T-Luni of Cydal)*
It ain't no room for no non-ass soldier n***as
And it's amazin' how the heat bring out the ho in n***as
When pistols blazin
It ain't no room for no non-ass soldier n***as
And it's amazin' how the heat bring out the ho in n***as
When pistols blazin
Verse 14 *(Dru Down)*
We use no paranoia, our dedication to our paper is so deep
The paraphernalia to the MOB love to creep
Our elevation, us racin' uhh to the top
Non-stop, wit a cocked back Glock, then hop
Into some Continental, n***a skee-skirt
You know this, I ran through just to do some dirt
I'm puttin' in work, I hit them were it hurt
Crack yo spine time
Instead of hittin 'em wit the nine
I'm... strictly wit this here MOB shit
Bitch!
Recognize, bettin' a muthafucka do when the steel's
Right between your eyes
The n***a was dead before he died
I slide
To the next scene
To the next foe
I'm speakin' on what I just did at the headquarters
And to my MOB soldiers
No one can fold us
Readin' their weakness like some Black Jack
If n***as can't handle it
They get stomped from that MOB attack
And if you come back from that stompin'
Lay low (Get 'em)
Hard-headed n***as'll get they head put on fliers
Verse 15 *(Agerman)*
It's A-G-E once again, pullin' you n***as ho cards
Strapped for them n***as that front to their bitches for tryin' to act hard
It ain't nothin' but the muthafuckin' MOB in me
I went from sellin' coke on the block to doin' robberies
To 'luffin' yo ass, stuffin' yo ass up in a trunk punk
Caught wit a 3 Times circumstance but nate like T-Funk
Too soon for 'em, shoulda had a tomb for 'em
Non-ass soldier n***as, there'll be no room for 'em
Pistols Blazin
