Fuckin' Around

Jay W Jenkins, Clifford J Harris, Carlos Hernandez, Maurice Dwight Marshall, Christopher Alexander Blanding, Maurice Young

Y'all niggas keep fuckin' around, fuckin' around
Fuck 'round get stuck in the ground
I ain't no busta, see, y'all niggas better stop fuckin' wit' me

I used to clown in the 'vert
Jump on the top when it drop and leave you down in the dirt
The first nigga flinch'll get it first
Fuck the paramedics 'cause the police be stealing from the hearse
I aim it at ya head when I burst
If I don't get a Grammy, I'm hittin' up the rap niggas first
And a bag full of burn, trap on the curb
Slap that bitch on the third, niggas on coke wit' a slur
Can't see shit but a blur, crank up that Chevy, let it purr
We all on the curve, bitch nigga calm your nerves
I ain't gon' let you die
And I never had to ten-toe tag a man
Tell your motherfuckin' hood I'm the Pack-istan
Bitch, I'm the motherfuckin' jacket, man
And I'ma stay where the motherfuckin' crackers stayin'

Y'all motherfuckers better run 'cause we got bombs
Plus we got guns that take off arms
Got .44 that shoot through doors and gets buck loads of the '84 (what?)
And like John Doe, hit ya city
Start killing every nigga who ain't feelin' this rhyme (who ain't feelin' this rhyme)
And ain't feelin' this vibe (and ain't feelin' this vibe)
Too many niggas goose neckin' my ride, huh (ooh, huh)
But OK, my AK fully
Y'all niggas watch how you step to me
Y'all young niggas back the fuck up
And don't make me act the fuck up
'Cause it'll be another war, I'll kill every motherfucker y'all know
That's yo' mom, pops, sister in-law, your daddy, your dog and your hoe
Now, I ain't claim to be a saint or no Goddamn serial killer (Goddamn serial killer)
I just wanna know, my nigga, what made you disrespect a nigga? Huh? (uh-huh)
What you thought I was a buster? A sucker? (Buster, sucker)
A rapper or actor? Huh? (a rapper, actor, oh)
Nigga run to the cracker, yup, they'll protect ya
But one day, fuck nigga, I'm gon' catch ya

Y'all niggas keep fuckin' around, fuckin' around
Fuck 'round get stuck in the ground
I ain't no busta, see, y'all niggas better stop fuckin' wit' me

Y'all niggas keep fuckin' around, fuckin' around
Fuck 'round get stuck in the ground
I ain't no busta, see, y'all niggas better stop fuckin' wit' me

Been got my B's, got my cheese
Fuck nigga, you don't play wit' the G's (G's)
Cock back, aim and squeeze
Now ya ass on the groundwit' the trees (that's right)
My ol' boy didn't raise no snitch (uh-uh)
My ol' girl didn't raise no bitch (nah)
You outta line, I'll kill you bitch
Now put that shit on my jit (let's go)
Bet I pull 'bout twenty-six bitches (uh)
Got a 'vert sit twenty-six inches (damn)
Off the concrete nigga, got links hard as concrete, nigga (ay, that's right)
I ain't from Houston but I rap a lot (yeah)
Break down O's in the trap a lot
Fuck nigga I got crip for days (uh)
Slip n' Slide wit' them boys from Dade (what up, Trick?)
305 to the 404 (chyeah), G shit, we'll take ya hoe (take ya hoe)
Look dawg, we'll take your bricks (uh)
Then go cop some candy shit (gimme that)
Fuck nigga I hope it's worth it
Spray ya ass like a job from perfume
Gay nigga, suck a dick (chyeah)
ATL, Dade county (holla at 'em Trick)

Y'all niggas keep fuckin' around, fuckin' around
Fuck 'round get stuck in the ground
I ain't no busta see, y'all niggas better stop fuckin' wit' me (fuckin' wit' me)

Y'all niggas keep fuckin' around, fuckin' around
Fuck 'round get stuck in the ground
I ain't no busta see, y'all niggas better stop fuckin' wit' me (fuckin' wit' me)

Y'all sucka-ass niggas keep playin' wit' me
Fuck around, see mewit' a AK on the streets
Start bustin', makin' motherfuckers lay in the streets
All 'cause of what a nigga say on the beat
Look, I'm a G' that's sayin' the least
From trappin' to sprayin' the heat to wearin' the key
All that attention you were payin' to me
You shoulda been mindin' ya business and keepin' it pimpin'
But I know most niggas aint built like that
Just know, hoe niggas get killed like that (that)
You don't wanna fuck around with TIP like that
Look flip, when the body bag zip, that's that (that)
Niggas wanna talk shit, then cop deuces
When this fully automatic MAC-10 start shootin'
So you could run, hide, tell lies if you want to (yeah, yeah, yeah)
But when I fuck around and run up on you, what you gon' do? (Come on, ay)

Y'all niggas keep fuckin' around, fuckin' around
Fuck 'round get stuck in the ground
I ain't no busta see, y'all niggas better stop fuckin' wit' me (fuckin' wit' me)

Y'all niggas keep fuckin' around, fuckin' around
Fuck 'round get stuck in the ground
I ain't no busta see, y'all niggas better stop fuckin' wit' me (fuckin' wit' me)

(Fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me)
(Fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me)
(Fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me)
(Fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me, fuckin' wit' me)

Y'all niggas keep fuckin' around, fuckin' around
Fuck 'round get stuck in the ground
I ain't no busta see, y'all niggas better stop fuckin' wit' me (fuckin' wit' me)

Y'all niggas keep fuckin' around, fuckin' around
Fuck 'round get stuck in the ground
I ain't no busta see, y'all niggas better stop fuckin' wit' me (fuckin' wit' me)

Trivia about the song Fuckin' Around by Trick Daddy

Who composed the song “Fuckin' Around” by Trick Daddy?
The song “Fuckin' Around” by Trick Daddy was composed by Jay W Jenkins, Clifford J Harris, Carlos Hernandez, Maurice Dwight Marshall, Christopher Alexander Blanding, Maurice Young.

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