We Ain`t Done Yet Lyrics

We Ain`t Done Yet lyrics

feat. Dresta

(Mausberg:)
Yo yo nigga, where they at now?
(Dresta:)
Where they at?
(Mausberg:)
Black Tec nigga
(Dresta:)
I don't see 'em Berg
(Mausberg:)
The young hogs, nigga

[Mausberg]
Y'all niggas ain't ready for Berg to drop bomb
Blowin' your block up and I'm hot like napalm
Crumble yo wack sh*t then I mash with my sceptor
Hollywood niggas I'm ready to chin check ya
Yo the Berg is on some different type shit
Gangsta Trey packin' the all black pistol grip
My niggas be on some ill shit
Graduated from gangbangin' now we killin' over real shit
South Pacific, the place that they terrified of
Black Tec gangstas, low lights and real thugs
My dogs bit the hoes, ready for war
Brigade of young niggas wit' calicos and .44's
But them wack niggas claim they bring pain
You cowards better stick to bein' hard in the rap game
'Cuz on the streets I'm the Don-mega
A rider from killer Cali and I'm sayin' f**k whateva

Chorus:
How can you roll in California 
with all that disrespect and not get wet?
This Compton, Cali where the saga begun 
and motherf**ker we ain't done yet
How can you roll in California 
with all that disrespect and not get wet?
This Compton, Cali where the saga begun 
and motherf**ker we ain't done yet

[Dresta]
I'm goin' out on the first rapper blabbin' at the mouth
And if you try to hide from me nigga, I'm gafflin' your spouse (come here
bit*h)
You cannot run from what has been done from day one
 
My words spread like plague and tread like lead in the wind
So holla holla if you really got a problem
Meet the problem solver, chrome .44 revovler
In fact I'm packin' my strap this very minute
Usin' 2Pac image, I'm feenin' 100 pecent to blaow
Yo style is blaow-ted, niggas thinkin' you wild
I know you thinkin' f**k Dresta, but never thinkin' out loud
You little bit*h as* wannabe thug with baby muscles
Me and Mausberg gonna muscle you bustas outta your hustle
Compton, California is original, most popular thugged-out nation where riders
never vacation
I stay packin' the floor thinkin' of more ways to gaffle your bit*h up and spit
you down in four ways

Chorus

[Mausberg]
I'm still sayin' f**k y'all, realest until I fall
Pistol packin' car jackin' rider 'til I back on some extreme shit
Leavin' the car full of rappers leakin'
Got my fly on, so f**k them old people peekin'
I'm tired of rap niggas goin' Hollywood
And running off at the mouth and wanna kick it like its all good
I'm the superior, super spaced-out on cloud nine
Hash and mushrooms got a nigga mind
And ain't no tellin' when I might go pop
Fifty cal layin' niggas down, only one shot
My book is full of heavy hitters
Thrashers and ready to mash ya on commadn on Maus master
Y'all niggas don't want no contact with me
Three and fifty pounds sweepin' niggas off they feet
I'ma ht ya like vehicular manslaughter
Underground, but we prefer to call it underwater

Chorus x2