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Guerilla Maab - Who Dat lyrics



f/ Pharoah

[Hook - 8x]

Who dat wanna do dat, like run up on a nigga

That'll bust, and make the crowd move back (who dat)

[Pharoah]

I got the recipe, to help a kilo swell

Like seventy two O.C.'s, that potent shit

Imported from overseas

Roll herb and the leaves, and blow the trees

Running with a clan, of them soldier G's

Killing niggaz in day, or the night time

When I'm running with a motherfucking 9 millimeter

I'm Pharoah the six foot nine

South Park slang, stain my brain

Now I remain in a hell of a game, cause I stay for

One nation, under the groove

Getting down with the funk, by packing a tool

Like a nigga in the trunk, when I'm jamming the Screw

Guerilla Maab and Killa Klan connection

Fucking em up, like an infection

Leave dull, as a lethal injection

Underground individual

A nigga better get his god damn ass on

If he wanna last long, cause if he stick around

When I get to dumping and blasting, his ass gone

It ain't shit to me, to pull in the head

Better ask somebody, I'm a nigga that always

Be on top and thoed, waiting on one of you hoes to come try me

[Trae]

A motherfucker, coming up out of the gutter

Guerilla militia, a thug nigga

Ain't scared to pack triggas, or hunt niggaz

Slug niggaz run up on me nigga

I'ma be a great nigga, flat line

Ahead of my time we shut it down, what now

I'm a young type nigga, that be ready to click

Too quick, to let a nigga knock me outta my shit

I fuck around and throw fists, till I damage they click

Who the nigga, that'd wanna get apart

Better take your time, we go hard in the paint

Nigga what you think we fell off, hell naw

Cause we been on the block, trying to collect my pay

Make dance what a nigga say

When I'm running on the block, with a AK

Going anyway, tell it'd be best not to play with Trae

I ain't got it all, stepping in my zone and yelling fuck y'all

So you better move around or get down, I ain't playing

With one of em, I'm a head buster

Gotta lay low before I touch you, rubbing your guns

Or fuck around, and make a nigga punk rush you

With a automatic glock, I can't stop and won't like Pac

When it comes to the brain splitter

You oughtta be able to tell, Guerilla Maab

And Street Military in the game, we'll never fail

[Hook - 8x]

[Dougie D]

Who dat, wanna be fucking around

With a nigga, that be packing a glock

With a infrared dot, taking em out with one shot

It's the Maab and that Military, and never gonna stop

So motherfuckers will bust spots

Behind enemy lines, we known to get down

Motherfuckers be left running and move on round

Feel us now, repping the street life we will drop bombs

Trying to play mind games, that'll make a nigga have to find you

Nigga holla, nigga slide you, nigga put him up in the trunk

And ride through H-Town, and then lied by bombs

For a nigga, y'all ain't really ready for the entourage

The killas are what I bring, killas and blood spillers on my team

Squeezing these, to fulfill they dreams

I'm a thoed motherfucker, that's known to drop bombs

Like a nigga went bad, before Vietnam

Raining on parades, banging em ranging AK's

That spray, you fuck around with the wrong ones play boys

Say boy, my niggaz don't play boy, hey boy

I'm a nigga that'll rough you up, and fuck you up

And you don't wanna play boy

[Z-Ro]

Bitch you better not be, playing with my lil bro

Fuck around, and fill your body up with slugs

Coming around the corner, smoking on the marijuana

Looking for a son of a bitch, with a mug

But I gotta maintain, keeping my composure

Military crawl down, Southside soldier

Pulling up on a motherfucker, that I opposition in a tank

Running everybody over, clover be wishing well

Better bust bitch, cause I'ma bust bitch

Better duck quickly, and swiftly

I'ma continue my c.d.'s, fellas and split the D

And that's for dome, you better leave me alone

And get on, cause I'm a murder on mobster

Eat steak and lobster, constantly taking

Your merchandise, out of your cars so

Don't make a nigga carve you

Give me that off your wrist, better not miss

Catch you up under your gun, look at how the blood run down

You got a gun, I got a gun nobody run now

Who dat wanna do dat, like run up on a nigga

That'll bust, and make the crowd move back

You don't wanna that red black, blue black

Motherfucker say who dat

[Hook - 8x]
Songs list of album: Year of the Underdwags, Pt. 2 (2006)
         Title Rating
01   Year of the Underdawgs lyrics   -
02   Young Line Leader lyrics   -
03    Every One of Ya'll lyrics Add lyrics   -
04   Put Yo Hood Up lyrics   -
05   Streets Got Ya lyrics   -
06   Who Dat lyrics   -
07   2 All You Hoes lyrics   -
08   Grind Fulltime lyrics   -
09   Keep You Jammin lyrics   -
10    See Me in My Casket lyrics Add lyrics   -
11    Guerilla Pimpin lyrics Add lyrics   -
12    Shorty Bounce It lyrics Add lyrics   -
13    Keep Watchin Me lyrics Add lyrics   -
 

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