Guerilla Maab Who Could It Be Lyrics

Who Could It Be Lyrics

f/ Cl'Che



[Hook - 2x]

Who could it be (who could it be)

But that M double A-B (but that M double A-B)

And we're sho nuff gon shine (and we're sho nuff gon shine)

Making everybody lose their mind (everybody losing they mind)



[Trae]

The same niggas on the block, wrecking it won't stop

We bout to head to the top, cocked dropping the top

With glocks ready to box, somebody bout to get dropped

Fuck around with the Maab, you fin to get shined out

Do you really wanna fuck around wit us

Come out of the trunk, with a AK with us

Better watch out for brains, you got a one hitter quitter

Nigga we the Southside, H-Town mob figgas

Rob niggas, on the block affiliated with drug dealers

Go getters, and a hundred percent thug niggas

You don't wanna step to us, you getting hugged nigga

On the microphone with flow, you get drugged nigga

You better get somewhere, you can't block the shine

I'm ready for any nigga, that wanna get out of line

I'll tell you one mo' time, you better respect my mind

When a red light shine, go and lay it down

Who the niggas that wanna talk down

Who the bitch that wanna hate, I'm fin to sweat up they face

Me and Doug and Ro, up on a paper chase

Trying to get it like a fiend, with a top case

In the race we done did that, candy blue

In the lap, wearing a black hat fuck that

Somebody fin to get done, till everybody be gon

And nigga, we number one



[Hook - 2x]



[Dougie D]

I'ma give it to you live, I'ma give it to you raw

I ain't even fin to play, with you motherfuckers

I'm a motherfucker, that'll be packing a glock

Taking em out with red dots, I'm a head busta

I'ma Maab out I'ma ride out, no doubt

Making motherfuckers slide out, need to hide out

Fuck around with the wrong nigga, pull the nine out

Leave a motherfucker crispy, burned and fried out

Does the Dougie give it out, mmm-hmm

Like a nigga be smoking up on, good green fur

Fucking em up in the first round, yes sir

I'm just so cold, I make a nigga say burr

Gripping a round, me and my dogs get bucked

With the Lil Cl'Che, still ready to get crunk

We M double A-B, now little bitch what

On a treaty the microphone, we ain't no punk

Dougie D so thoed, and they already know

The Trae and the J Z-Ro, by bo

Got a kin folk raw, that be gripping a gun

I got a king folk right, that be dropping a bomb

I got a click of motherfuckers, putting words on the run

And when you thought it was over, nigga it just begun

And when you hear this shit, nigga don't you bump

When you feel you ready, nigga then come get some



[Hook - 2x]



[Cl'Che]

Got em all asking, who could it be

That Guerilla M double A-B, and C-L-C-H-E

The classified lady, sho nuff

Watch me shine up on the scene, make em all say their so thoed

Sitting back on these hoes, that's trying to out do my flows

And all I wanna do is get the key, and open the do'

For my Southeastern pros, fuck it let's show em that we could

Swang the 4's, I'm on a mission steady trying to get the cream

Maab deep, with the KMJ killa team

Doing things, making mo' money than you ever seen

While you watching me, on your big screen

BET or MTV, posters hanging at your local grocery

Now everybody know me, Cl'Che make you lose your mind

Everytime you jam a Maab c.d., the classified's on your mind

Southside I bring it to you live, so please don't underestimate me

Or my niggas Trae, Dougie D and Z-Ro, sing the hook for me



[Hook - 2x]



[Z-Ro]

Who could it be, blowing on doja

Consuming codeine, cause I'm just a soldier

That stays on his grind, chasing that feddy

These fellas they ain't ready, they lightweight and I'm heavy

The Mo City Don, king of the ghetto

I keep dropping bombs, cause I just can't let go

I'm thoed in the game, hydro or that do-do

Catch Z-Ro in slow-mo, Z-Ro not no hoe thogh

I swang and I swerve, like Tony Montana

My balls are my word, come down your chimney like Santa

And put you to bed, for talking down on a O.G

Really though y'all don't know me, I will make you die slowly



[Hook - 3x]