Disturbing The Peace Nsew Lyrics

Nsew Lyrics

Just get on down [8x]

 

 [Chorus]

 

 North, North, South, South, East, East, West, West [4x]

 

 Shit, Got a nigga gone off a fifth of Fayo and apple juice

 Throw up a deuce, Keep my hat banged to the left and ain't scared to act a
fool

 So what you gone do, you betta not speak unless spoken to cause I bust that
shit'it

 Dump that Philly, I could back dro wit a lac wit a yak, gettin drunk off in
it

 Through the Chi like North, North, South, South

 Niggas talk shit put that work in they mouth

 In the East, East, West, West, niggas bust back put a slug in ya chest

 Cause I'm hood, hood, gutter, gutter

 Shauna got juice like a muh'fucka

 Hood of the hustlas and bloodsuckas

 Back in the bricks wit that good

 

 [Chorus]

 

 Fep, in the spot, buyin yak wit my balla camp

 All them bitches holla'n bout is (Where them fuckin dollas at)

 Yeeah, I got them hos, I got them O's, I got Air phones for those hos

 And yeeah, I got white phones, got black phones, I got crack weed in the
floor

 So get on the grind, Get on some lime,Get on mine, let ya mind take course

 Got dip in the ride, Switchin the tires, Whippin the fire 85 Chevy Sport

 See if you got 16's, I will make that pliz'ay

 And I'm dressed like a dope boy, throwin up them triz'eys

 

 East side, whole Masterfield rainbow

 Flight soles, kinda roll where them thangs blow

 Good wood, not wastin that payroll

 Five hos trapped, boys got rapers

 My size got air nigga rep that

 We ride, rock sells and I bet that

 Car is a gutless, pistol is a must bitch

 Let a nigga know that his head I will bust quick

 Some slum niggas know what I'm talkin bout

 Lil rob fillin hos in the parkin lot

 Gimme head while I'm bustin that two track

 It was trill, hit the fence, never looked back

 Big thug, hit clubs in the fifth book

 Dollar Boy, let em know how to rip folk

 If a bitch broke, gotta let her slide, though

 2-0 represent East side ho

 

 [Chorus]

 

 Hell, I'm up in the club, 4 whippin up, just throwin up pitch forks to (what,
what)

 Tupac, I'm a rider, hoppin out, Gangsta crip disciples (Yeeah!)

 Wilin on the side of the club and dressed in blood colors, waitin on a sign to
(Yeeah!)

 Pull out the gats and attack on them boys that thought that

 (they thought it couldn't happen)

 They blastin and screamin, we ain't friends, ain't no need to pretend

 (Shawty!) Split the mens, for my homey that got killed last weekend

 His brains was left leakin while his body got cold

 Now it's y'all life that y'all owe

 Time to even the score, case closed

 

 [Chorus (2x)]

 [Scratching]