Go Hard Round Here lyrics

[Verse 1: Jae Millz]
Eh yo
n*gga wants the drama on, of course I'm going off
b*tch, my whole life been hard, so I'm never going soft
Back up in them perly gates, the only thing you gon' cross
East, west, south, n*gga, either way you going north
f*ck you and them foot soldiers you calling goons
'Cause I [?] fiends put in them spoons
Look, I be on that stupid sh*t, that murder, kill, shoot him sh*t
Boom, even if it's the one who pushed you out her woom
f*ck [?] R-raded, cap a tool, W
That's for wreckless, so respect it
Or these tools'll bring blues
To the family of you, you are no superhero
And you ain't gotta be like [?] die like [?]
f*ck your money and your ego, my n*gga T-Streets ain't from Argintina, but he'll shoot you down like Delphino
Them young boys you send will get trampled
Man handled, b*tch, this is why [?] don't make me stand [?]

[Verse 2: T-Streets]
T-Streets the name
Money, money, money, and money again
I ain't got track shoes, but I'm running the game
Wish I could turn into a bullet, and just run in your brain
All y'all n*ggas, just remind me of my hoes
So you better walk light, like some diamonds on your toes
I told the bankteller, put some kommas on them O's
I run up in your house, and put your mama on the floor
And yes I goes off, like a timer on them hoes
I put that di*k on them, and go Osama on them hoes
You pus*y ass n*ggas, tryna [?] into them hoes
I let that [?]
Yeah, f*ck [?] boys
I f*ck that Nina Ross, make her moan for y'all boys
Yeah, and again, it's T-Streets
Just pray we never meet, motherf*cker
[Verse 3: Lil Wayne]
Take that n*gga head off, watch that b*tch neck slide
I call him how I see him, and I got a direct line
Favorite number Tech 9, I go so erect, I'm
Coming to collect mine, b*tch, you gon' respect mine
Now who that be [?]
AK make you walk it out, like a padestrian
Extra terrestrial, extra collesteral
You should eat healthier, I turn you to a vegetable
I'm throwing bullets, can you catch it all?
'Cause they are special y'all's, especially y'all
I'm throwing bullets, now can you catch it all?
I make you catch them all, like [?]
Open wide, receive a foot in your [?]
Everything [?] foot to [?] chin [?]
These n*ggas walking, we the f*cking bush wackers
And they are just good actors

[Verse 4: Gudda Gudda]
It's a war going on outside, nobody safe, n*gga
8 to your face, taking straight to the safe, n*gga
b*tch n*gga panic, 'cause I'm here to start static
sh*t, your head gon' need a bandage, I got tools like a makanic
I'm ready for the war, course, hot burner, scarlet tortch
Block burner, turn your f*cking set into a holocaust
Got problems, call the boss
I'll make them n*ggas call it off
The 44 Bulldog, barking like a hungry dog
Marxman, Evel Knievel with the pistol
I roll on the ground, pop up and knock your sh*t loose
I knock off your tissue, make sure you get miss you's
Don't check a n*gga, stick his ass and bag [?]
b*tch n*ggas actors, better yet actresses
The tool will hit you and flip you like p*ssy mattresses
Lineback a gun, 'cause it blits and just tackle sh*t
Snap, pop, bend, break, brooze, and straight crackle sh*t
Gudda!