Felonies Lyrics

Felonies lyrics

FELONIES (2005)

BOYZ IN DA HOOD



[HOOK]

Whats up with partner, Where he live, Where he stay at

Where the ice, where the bread, where the cake at?

I'm telling you man you don't want it with dem boyz, 

Everyone of them got felonies man!

I'm slap me a nigga, befoe its over with,

I'm rush me a nigga, befoe its over with,

Duct tape me a nigga, befoe its over with,

I'm bust me a nigga, befoe its over with.



[DUKE]

I'm sick & I'm tired of niggas asking bout mine

If I'm cockin that iron, I'm telling you I'm sending them signs

I move fast forward I aint got no button to rewind

I react of instinct I aint stressin no time

I came a long way from peddlin rocks 

Block recognized the gansta & he up my stock

Showed me the recipe & other grams I copped

Home ain't a home withoutta arm & hammer box

Shit, Jeezy just be being on that cell

Got them pre-teen numbers I like, like R.Kelly (I got that work nigga)

Lotta niggas they be claimin the spot

But we the only ones that still represent it like mascots

So ask not why my attitude is shitty

Step aside why a real nigga move the city, huh

From my block to your block niggas know me

They know that ole reppin ass niggas a O.G.

We use to rock flip-flops, tube socks with gold teeth

& A flip flop crease with gold shoes on all they feet

Please believe we ain't playing no games

But I will take a charge if you try to drive my lane

Plus I gotta donkey dick to drive the broads in sane

I'm a street cat, shit you know I'm hard to tame



[HOOK] 1x



[YOUNG JEEZY]

I'm a gansta mutha fucka if you ever seen one

Black fitty cap nigga & some Air Force One's

Hey & I'm strapped so dont set trip

.45 hitcha  make your whole chest split

Sleepy Brown nigga I cant wait

Fifty grand round my neck like bait

Hey & keep thinking its gravy 

Everybody from my hood know Jeezy is crazy

& I ain't playin witcha mother fuckers

Shoot both of yall make yall niggas blood brothers (thats righhht)

& I'm so sincere, I ain't playing witcha niggas this year

(Hey we gone rob dem Boyz n Da Hood) Bitch please

I'll kill a mutha fucks bout Jody Breeze

Yeah nigga thats the truth, bout Big Dee Big Duke I'll shoot



[HOOK] 1x



[BIG DEE]

I'm telling you man I be rollin on dem corners no Range no necklace man

Range Rover no rims left they neck in da pain

& Put the silencer on the tip professional man

Pressure point blank like a sexual change

& Splitcha head down the middle like a sectional man

Hard blow to hard coat exsposen the four

Even though I tote gun I dont rob no more

Now here I go on the patio with a flat head screwdriver

Prying on the side door in a gat proof suit liner

Calm but I'm wide open they act I'm do something

Quite its going down on em with a Mac 11 two rifle

Pistol, pumps, switch & knives, 

Pistol grips, smoked clips, nighsticks & plyers

No myth I'm him fucka get hypnotized

Now get killed in da mist we suggest you ride



[HOOK] 1x





[JODY BREEZE]

Well I'm the youngest in the click boy

Try me like a bitch & I'll betcha I'll be the first to punch you in ya
shit

Yall niggas just talking, yall niggas aint ready

Yall niggas dont want none of dis

While yall out spending 100's on your necks 

Spending 100's on your wrist, spending 100's on your rims

I'm on da block spending 100's on bricks

Sending 100's to the J gotta 100 more fits

Fake niggas get killed round here

Its real in the field betta get it how you live

& If not cock back bust atcha cock suckers mutha fucka in fact I will

Cause the niggas that I roll with & blow dro with 

Fuck hoes with they outta control

Realer in bumpin chevy's with Mac 11's holdin it steady

Ready to put seven off in your belly boy



[HOOK] 1x



Lyrics provided by bkp93@aol.com

Friday 9-16-2005