Texty: DJ Kayslay. Don't Take It There (Remix).
(feat. Sheek Louch, Papoose, Tony Yayo, Uncle Murda, Jim Jones, & Junior Reid)
[Intro: Tony Yayo]
Yo Kay whattup! The kid Yayo man!
You know 50 blew some of that magic dust on me
Now I'm a get some of that MTV money you know
[DJ Kay Slay:]
I ain't mad at ya homey, yo Jim Jones you with me? !
[Jim Jones:]
Hey Slay what it do?
[DJ Kay Slay:]
That's what I'm talkin about!
[Sheek Louch:]
I mean you killed them already on the first one
[DJ Kay Slay:]
Is that Sheek Louch, Papoose, Uncle Murda, Tony Yayo and Jim Jones? !
[Sheek Louch:]
This is the remix! D-Block!
[Verse 1: Sheek Louch]
You don't wanna war with me
Hammer on my lap since the first Skate Key
Now I'm in the Range or the SRT
Pat me down, that ain't where a Gemstar be
When Sheek come torn things to Mardi Gras
Straight Stuntin Magazine bitches in my car
Black shades hoodie on big cigar
Long chain pinky ring big to par
Police watchin rooftop binoculars
Don Guerilla, Good Love popular
I'm gettin money like the Jews bitch, mazel tov
Clap at 'em matter of fact let Pap get 'em
It's a body in the trunk right let's go shread 'em
I ain't the King of New York I'm just plain old Louch
Big man out that motherfuckin classic group
I been a pimp but I guess they only listen to Snoop
Let's go to war!
[Chorus: Junior Reid]
You don't wanna war with me (No No)
You don't wanna go there with me (No)
Before you go there with me
Make sure you know you fuck with real OG's
[Verse 2: Papoose]
Papoose, Pa-poose!
There's only one king in this city, and
Y'all know the meanin of his name is indian
I got it from my grandma I swear to Vivian
Open up your mouth I'm a stick my semi in
Tried to front so I shock like Shawn Merriman
You a fish out of water this is my aquarium
I let the ruger squeeze with Junior Reid
I chew emcees like I'm chewin seeds
Your crew could bleed leave you intrigued
I'm a truer breed I superceed what you believe
True indeed Jim Jones said it best you dudes is weak
You a fuckin rat went to the D's and chewed the cheese
He a fake blood, burn his flag remove his beeds
Wish I could bring Rem back (BO!)
Run that (BO!) Run that (BO!) FUCK THAT!
Tell your boss you ever try to touch Pap
He better put you in his wheel like a hubcap
[Chorus: Junior Reid]
You don't wanna war with me (No No)
You don't wanna go there with me (No)
Before you go there with me
Make sure you know you fuck with real OG's
[Verse 3: Tony Yayo]
HERE WE GO NOW!
I wake up to that same bullshit, nigga
I wake up to that same full clip, nigga
Go price, low price, no gas goin up
For forty-five a gram, how the FUCK a nigga blowin up?
I get that cocaine, Vicodin, and Xanax pills (What else?)
You know, the same pills, that killed Heath Ledger (YEAH!)
The pies turn to grams, the grams turn to shells
'cause both eyes and hands, are like digi scales
All that talk about the recession, is depressing (hahaha!)
Jay-Z said it, you know where I'm headed
To the strip, where all the fiends show me love (Southsiiiiiiide)
Some feds jump out, I'm a throw my drugs
Then I jump in a hooptie, stash a snub
Then it's off to the projects for some Groupie Love
Got three condoms, hoes got the bub
Got three condoms, hoes got the bub! YEAH!
[Chorus: Junior Reid]
You don't wanna war with me (No No)
You don't wanna go there with me (No)
Before you go there with me
Make sure you know you fuck with real OG's
[Verse 4: Uncle Murda]
Put that thang on his forehead and squeeze the trigger (BANG!)
When he fall, get on top of him, squeeze again, nigga (Get 'em!)
Nobody is untouchable, anybody can get it
I was hurt when I heard they killed Larry Davis in prison (Damn!)
I was young, he inspired me to shoot the police
I did it and got away with it, check my rap sheets (check it!)
E'rybody ain't as fortunate, I'm bein fo' real
Rest In Peace to all the dudes that the police killed
Y'know, some ain't had no gun and some had a gun on 'em
They wasn't shootin at the police, they was runnin from 'em
Them young boys in the hood still thuggin it
Them O.G.s' still tryna stop them from hustlin (What? !)
Them young boys pumped up, poppin them fist
The O.G.s' like, "Man, we too old for this shit"
Lil' man growin up, he'll shoot you in the face
There's a war goin on out here, nobody's safe - ah!
(This ain't '88!)
[Chorus: Junior Reid]
You don't wanna war with me (No No)
You don't wanna go there with me (No)
Before you go there with me
Make sure you know you fuck with real OG's
[Verse 5: Jim Jones]
If I kill you, I'm brainless
Must be stupid, actin like I ain't rich
Actin like it ain't short money to get ya brains hit
You better watch what you say bitch
Black president, please, because my hood is on the same shit
Tryna get rich offa 'caine bricks
So if you gonna kill a man, then you kill a man proper
All my niggas do the killas like shottas
Fake niggas start grillin like Shabba
Try to stand tall, let the AK chop ya
It's not a end line, won't delay your composure
Shout to El Barrio and Kay Slay, partna
Huh, okay it's still thug-acation
But we Peter roll 'em if it's no blood relation
Put his name on the wall, fuck it we erase him
Put his brains on the floor - fuck it that's for basin
Uh - you don't really want it with me
You don't wanna run into a G
We still gettin money, had a deal a couple hundred on the fee
Still keep the guns under the seat
I run with guerillas, it's a jungle in the streets
Past slow, some is in the streets - fuck all the beef
I can't remember a nigga frontin on me
Heh, I can't remember a nigga frontin on me!
[Intro: Tony Yayo]
Yo Kay whattup! The kid Yayo man!
You know 50 blew some of that magic dust on me
Now I'm a get some of that MTV money you know
[DJ Kay Slay:]
I ain't mad at ya homey, yo Jim Jones you with me? !
[Jim Jones:]
Hey Slay what it do?
[DJ Kay Slay:]
That's what I'm talkin about!
[Sheek Louch:]
I mean you killed them already on the first one
[DJ Kay Slay:]
Is that Sheek Louch, Papoose, Uncle Murda, Tony Yayo and Jim Jones? !
[Sheek Louch:]
This is the remix! D-Block!
[Verse 1: Sheek Louch]
You don't wanna war with me
Hammer on my lap since the first Skate Key
Now I'm in the Range or the SRT
Pat me down, that ain't where a Gemstar be
When Sheek come torn things to Mardi Gras
Straight Stuntin Magazine bitches in my car
Black shades hoodie on big cigar
Long chain pinky ring big to par
Police watchin rooftop binoculars
Don Guerilla, Good Love popular
I'm gettin money like the Jews bitch, mazel tov
Clap at 'em matter of fact let Pap get 'em
It's a body in the trunk right let's go shread 'em
I ain't the King of New York I'm just plain old Louch
Big man out that motherfuckin classic group
I been a pimp but I guess they only listen to Snoop
Let's go to war!
[Chorus: Junior Reid]
You don't wanna war with me (No No)
You don't wanna go there with me (No)
Before you go there with me
Make sure you know you fuck with real OG's
[Verse 2: Papoose]
Papoose, Pa-poose!
There's only one king in this city, and
Y'all know the meanin of his name is indian
I got it from my grandma I swear to Vivian
Open up your mouth I'm a stick my semi in
Tried to front so I shock like Shawn Merriman
You a fish out of water this is my aquarium
I let the ruger squeeze with Junior Reid
I chew emcees like I'm chewin seeds
Your crew could bleed leave you intrigued
I'm a truer breed I superceed what you believe
True indeed Jim Jones said it best you dudes is weak
You a fuckin rat went to the D's and chewed the cheese
He a fake blood, burn his flag remove his beeds
Wish I could bring Rem back (BO!)
Run that (BO!) Run that (BO!) FUCK THAT!
Tell your boss you ever try to touch Pap
He better put you in his wheel like a hubcap
[Chorus: Junior Reid]
You don't wanna war with me (No No)
You don't wanna go there with me (No)
Before you go there with me
Make sure you know you fuck with real OG's
[Verse 3: Tony Yayo]
HERE WE GO NOW!
I wake up to that same bullshit, nigga
I wake up to that same full clip, nigga
Go price, low price, no gas goin up
For forty-five a gram, how the FUCK a nigga blowin up?
I get that cocaine, Vicodin, and Xanax pills (What else?)
You know, the same pills, that killed Heath Ledger (YEAH!)
The pies turn to grams, the grams turn to shells
'cause both eyes and hands, are like digi scales
All that talk about the recession, is depressing (hahaha!)
Jay-Z said it, you know where I'm headed
To the strip, where all the fiends show me love (Southsiiiiiiide)
Some feds jump out, I'm a throw my drugs
Then I jump in a hooptie, stash a snub
Then it's off to the projects for some Groupie Love
Got three condoms, hoes got the bub
Got three condoms, hoes got the bub! YEAH!
[Chorus: Junior Reid]
You don't wanna war with me (No No)
You don't wanna go there with me (No)
Before you go there with me
Make sure you know you fuck with real OG's
[Verse 4: Uncle Murda]
Put that thang on his forehead and squeeze the trigger (BANG!)
When he fall, get on top of him, squeeze again, nigga (Get 'em!)
Nobody is untouchable, anybody can get it
I was hurt when I heard they killed Larry Davis in prison (Damn!)
I was young, he inspired me to shoot the police
I did it and got away with it, check my rap sheets (check it!)
E'rybody ain't as fortunate, I'm bein fo' real
Rest In Peace to all the dudes that the police killed
Y'know, some ain't had no gun and some had a gun on 'em
They wasn't shootin at the police, they was runnin from 'em
Them young boys in the hood still thuggin it
Them O.G.s' still tryna stop them from hustlin (What? !)
Them young boys pumped up, poppin them fist
The O.G.s' like, "Man, we too old for this shit"
Lil' man growin up, he'll shoot you in the face
There's a war goin on out here, nobody's safe - ah!
(This ain't '88!)
[Chorus: Junior Reid]
You don't wanna war with me (No No)
You don't wanna go there with me (No)
Before you go there with me
Make sure you know you fuck with real OG's
[Verse 5: Jim Jones]
If I kill you, I'm brainless
Must be stupid, actin like I ain't rich
Actin like it ain't short money to get ya brains hit
You better watch what you say bitch
Black president, please, because my hood is on the same shit
Tryna get rich offa 'caine bricks
So if you gonna kill a man, then you kill a man proper
All my niggas do the killas like shottas
Fake niggas start grillin like Shabba
Try to stand tall, let the AK chop ya
It's not a end line, won't delay your composure
Shout to El Barrio and Kay Slay, partna
Huh, okay it's still thug-acation
But we Peter roll 'em if it's no blood relation
Put his name on the wall, fuck it we erase him
Put his brains on the floor - fuck it that's for basin
Uh - you don't really want it with me
You don't wanna run into a G
We still gettin money, had a deal a couple hundred on the fee
Still keep the guns under the seat
I run with guerillas, it's a jungle in the streets
Past slow, some is in the streets - fuck all the beef
I can't remember a nigga frontin on me
Heh, I can't remember a nigga frontin on me!
DJ Kayslay
DJ Kayslay