Tear This b*tch Up lyrics

[Chorus: All-Star & Yo Gotti]
We bout to tear this b*tch up
We bout to tear this b*tch up
[?]
Got a pistol in the car [?]
Bout to tear this b*tch up
I got the straps, and I ain't sparing no n*gga
Knock a motherf*cker out and blame it on the liquor
First n*gga get wrong, it's on
Got a pistol in the car [?]
Bout to tear this b*tch up

[Verse 1: All-Star]
Squad [?]
I ain't tryna talk it out
Guns I walk with them, what the f*ck you talkin bout?
Them n*ggas hating, I ain't worried bout no hater
Cash money stay on my mind, I'm all about this paper
See I was too busy getting money, buying cars
My n*ggas poppin bottles, hollaring out, crying hard
You might disrespect the gangster, but not all
And I got bond money, I ain't worried bout a charge
I'm from the hood, man let's get that understood
I'm walking round this b*tch like I wish a n*gga would
And I'm gone off that goose, no telling what I might do
Security like "calm down", I'm like "f*ck them too"
[Chorus: All-Star & Yo gotti]
We bout to tear this b*tch up
We bout to tear this b*tch up
[?]
Got a pistol in the car [?]
Bout to tear this b*tch up
I got the straps, and I ain't sparing no n*gga
Knock a motherf*cker out and blame it on the liquor
First n*gga get wrong, it's on
Got a pistol in the car [?]
Bout to tear this b*tch up

[Verse 2: Young Buck]
All-Star, I don't really do this much
G-Unit is the gang, we'll hit them n*ggas up
Hit the club in my house shoes, flank in my pocket
[?] security can't stop it
He hating on me, but his b*tch love Buck
If his ass keep talking, we gon tear this b*tch up
[?] that gangsta walk
And did you see that f*ckin chain that Banks just bought?
I'm waiting for the same thing, it ain't my falt
Half of these rappers broke, that ain't your cause
[?] layed on your back
Yo Gotti down with me, n*gga this is payback
[Chorus: All-Star & Yo Gotti]
We bout to tear this b*tch up
We bout to tear this b*tch up
[?]
Got a pistol in the car [?]
Bout to tear this b*tch up
I got the straps, and I ain't sparing no n*gga
Knock a motherf*cker out and blame it on the liquor
First n*gga get wrong, it's on
Got a pistol in the car [?]
Bout to tear this b*tch up

[Verse 3: All-Star]
Real as I wana be, n*gga you a wanna be
Face it, you a hater, and you always gonna be under me
Chain by the quarter key, charm bout a brick or [?]
10 on my wrist, and it's what I got this pistol for
n*gga get to reaching, and his ass gon need a preacher
Club full of wittnesses, but really I don't give a damb
All Imma tell 'em is that n*gga shouldn't have tried me
A hundred on tjust to make sure they don't hide me
My n*gga say take the charge, he was right beside me
[?] gotta hit him with the 9 piece
[?] in the daytime
All-Star b*tchthat pistol in my waistline
[Chorus: All-Star & Yo Gotti]
We bout to tear this b*tch up
We bout to tear this b*tch up
[?]
Got a pistol in the car [?]
Bout to tear this b*tch up
I got the straps, and I ain't sparing no n*gga
Knock a motherf*cker out and blame it on the liquor
First n*gga get wrong, it's on
Got a pistol in the car [?]
Bout to tear this b*tch up