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Low Down Lyrics

Artist: Mo' Thugs
Album: Family Scriptures

low down, low down, low down
krayzie bone up in this motherfucker
My muthafuckin nigga(my muthafuckin nigga)
Soulja boy, bout to shut you hoes down
You know what it is, Mo' Thug clique rollin to damn thick
What you hoes wanna do? die(die)die(die)
what it is nigga (what it is) what it is...We

low down, low down dirty shame, niggas actin strange
catch a clip to tha fuckin brain x2

[soulja boy]
Soulja boy, up in this mothafucka,
so point out the bitch made suckas,
who think they got enough heat to rush us.
i'ma dust ya ass off in the blink of an eye,
you niggas gotta die, don't ask me why,
but still I try with the vibe
that i be gettin make y'all wanna get in ya shit
down to the fuckin racket
you hoes wanna find me, my nigga layzie bone
wit pine trees, like light see
ain't no comin back, gimme some of that, good shit you smokin
got me geeked up, heat it up, heat it up,
straight up and i'm hopin
that all y'all bustas got time to play,
my niggas, who stoned, krayzie bone
movin around your way, (your way)

(hook x2)

We banged your brain, put em in a coffin
and dats where they lay, nigga wanna roll wit bone get chromed,
put em in a river now that's how we play.
Murderin the mniggas is startin to arouse me
hollow points all in your body,
nigga fittin to bless your soul
wit a 12 gauge mossberg leavin you stiff and cold.
What'cha gonna do, when the muthafuckin
? come for you?
ya snooze, ya lose,ya catch this uzi,
nigga betta shoot tha po-po too, and we do
runnin wit a nigga wit his finger on the trigga
when i catch em i fill em wit ammunition
hit em with the bullet, my rhythm, did it get ya,
then miss em, hey,
we down wit wit da swangin, no fakin, we quickin to
fuckin you up, oh my
guages and uzis and .357's we load em and
shoot for your head, ya die
nigga they betta not test me, leathaface be
quick to pull out this weapon,
hey, we leavin em headless,
respect them St. Clair players bitch

(hook x2)

[soulja boy]
on a mission, I'm swift to empty my clip
ya oughta be fast to run for safety, man
tha souljas bout to rip, ya lit
get hit, i split, witcha shit
aint worried about a nigga tellin me a fuckin thing
cuz all these bitches run they lip
cuz i'ma shift, my grip, off into a whole new level

Fuck wit my clique you know you dead wrong
(dead wrong, dead wrong)
rest in peace has seemed to be creepin up on me lately
fuck it, lets all go crazy, see we daily and we ready
my thugsta's love when we buck-buck, put em on the ground,
fuck em, krayzie released them shells,
i say fuck it let's all go to hell,
cuz i got my money, my pistol, my reefer,
never forget my thugs, whuh? Hey, we slay, we spray

[soulja boy]
we pray, everyday,
cuz when i see that you and me just don't mix
so i grab i grip (i grab my grip)
I'ma kill your clique (i'ma kill your clique)
that's the end to this shit.
so don't you ever, in your life, try to test me
standin like rambo with this bullet-proof vest and my knife,
you better respect me and my threats, or i'm killin your wife
your bitch get slap just like wesley
don't test me, don't press me, krayzie bone open up their chest, G.

[soulja boy and krayzie]
yeah nigga, yeah boy-hoe ass niggas
y'all muthafuckas ain't ready for this muthafuckin real thug shit
niggas ain't ready(krayzie bone)we shuttin shit down
(shut shit down!) shut shit down, completly down!
you hoes didn't know? you better recognize
y'all fittin to get stomped nigga
wasteland, wasteland, wasteland
hoe ass niggas, we fit to kill em!
wasteland (repeat till end)


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