Hurt Niggas - Mobb Deep

[Verse 1: (Prodigy)]

I'll noose ya'll, and push ya'll off the edge
I'm like Ray Benzino 'cause how I hang men
I got a big caliber gun inside of my Timb
so I can explode on any mothaf_cka that grin
trust me, it's not like that, it's not what you thought
you'll be like "P shot me and bounced in the Porsche"
on some real live Mobb sh_t, Columbo, the Cappo
I pop n_ggas, leave the gun right there, I got gloves
stop n_ggas from frontin', leave 'em real f_cked up
I drop n_ggas thats runnin', shoot 'em in they back dun
coward ass n_gga poppin' all that sh_t
and when them things popped out you on some Michael Johnson sh_t
f_ck that, hammer that n_gga to the earth
wanna cross me? you n_ggas gotta pay that toll first
and I got change for all that million dollar sh_t
and these slugs 'll be the only reason n_ggas be hollarin'.

[Chorus (Havoc, P, and Noyd)]

Turn this sh_t up, pump this sh_t up, DJ mothaf_ckas burn this sh_t up,
we hurt n_ggas
Twirl that sh_t up, burn that sh_t up, don't make me have the Nine spit
up, I gives a fid-uck, I hurt n_ggas

[Verse 2: (Havoc)]

I'm tired of tellin' n_ggas how the f_ck I feel
you know the steel 'll put them n_ggas to sleep like Benedryl
these trash ass rappers and they faggot ass friends
talkin' like the b_tches, walk around like they Men
n_ggas like ya'll don't get no respect
this is Hav', I die once, ya'll n_ggas die a Thousand deaths
cowards, you tryin' too hard to be 'bout it
you know them n_ggas that be fake be the ones to shout it (Holla!)
talkin' this and that, but check
turn around and get robbed in they own projects
might as well be rappin' on stage for them
b_tches be baggin' you, 'cause you the one feminine
the sound of these guns got 'em shook, it's a rap
you could see the yellow stripe runnin' clear down they back
and let a n_gga find out where you live at
and then blow that mothaf_ckin' piece of sh_t off the map.

[Verse 3 (Prodigy)]

Whattup son, dun, surprise n_gga, thats how we pop up on 'em
you off point you die in your sleep, thats the moral
n_gga, you know we get our contraban in
smokin' that dangerous, you know we got bangers
you know I'm dead real, I don't know what you was thinkin'
I'm all over the street, you better stay creepin'
I shoot n_ggas fair ones, I'll box you dun
you'll be six feet in that dirt, I'll stop your run.


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