Tired Of Dis sh*t [OG] lyrics

[Chorus: Kingpin Skinny Pimp & Koopsta Knicca]
n*ggas comin' clean, rollin' mean
I'm gettin' 'bout tired of this sh*t
This that-this that type of sh*t that'll make you click, to get your ass in
n*ggas comin' clean, rollin' mean
I'm gettin' 'bout tired of this sh*t
This that-this that type of sh*t that'll make you click, to get your ass in
n*ggas comin' clean, rollin' mean
I'm gettin' 'bout tired of this sh*t
This that-this that type of sh*t that'll make you click, to get your ass in
n*ggas comin' clean, rollin' mean
I'm gettin' 'bout tired of this sh*t
This that-this that type of sh*t that'll make you click, to get your ass in
n*ggas comin' clean, rollin' mean
I'm gettin' 'bout tired of this sh*t
This that-this that type of sh*t that'll make you click, to get your ass in

[Verse 1: DJ Paul]
Ballin' through my hood, ain't you clean, fool
Show love, finna get stuck up
Trail that b*tch, ain't my thing, sweet black sugar f*ckin' stang
Laid back, Glock tight, full of that Tanqueray
When I scope I hope a n*gga drop off that cheese
I don't wanna hurt nobody 'less I gotta click for them kis, mane, let's stick up these
Hizzo in the hizzo spizzot, G-I-M-I Sum, Lil Buck
Pistol grip, pistol whip
Don't you trip without your clip, my nig
If you ain't kinfolk
Deuce double one is what me do
Biddy bop, me Glock fall on yo' chest
Unless you brought your bulletproof
I'm jealous, fellas roll too clean
I gotta get mine so I wanna take yours
Smack me with somethin', nine Glock, f*ck that just gonna kick it on in
Don't you shout, don't you make no noise
I'm down to die for mine all the time
Lay yo b*tch ass down clown, seventeen rounds
I can shoot at your face, I won't miss, turn on this
Infrared got you scared, barber Paul pluggin' heads
Jack feet nimble, get jacked so quick
Jack with a Jason mask on that b*tch
Terrifyin' these n*ggas soul, 666, we like that sh*t, see
Biatch
[Chorus: Kingpin Skinny Pimp & Koopsta Knicca]
n*ggas comin' clean, rollin' mean
I'm gettin' 'bout tired of this sh*t
This that-this that type of sh*t that'll make you click, to get your ass in
n*ggas comin' clean, rollin' mean
I'm gettin' 'bout tired of this sh*t
This that-this that type of sh*t that'll make you click, to get your ass in
n*ggas comin' clean, rollin' mean
I'm gettin' 'bout tired of this sh*t
This that-this that type of sh*t that'll make you click, to get your ass in
n*ggas comin' clean, rollin' mean
I'm gettin' 'bout tired of this sh*t
This that-this that type of sh*t that'll make you click, to get your ass in

[Verse 2: 411]
I'm chiefin', I'm smokin', I'm also attackin' the babbage, the practice that keep me high
Indico up in my mind, cappin' these b*tches, and watch 'em die
Be trainin' duties, strictly be bustin' the tone, n*ggas that be from the South
Gimme the f*ckin' cheese, trick, before I commence to pull my yawk
Bullet to ya scapula, b*tch, don't gimme no hesitation
Cuz a n*gga like 411, I'm quick to click with aggravation
Determination in my blood, wait for a b*tch or n*gga to splurge
I'm creepin', I'm stainin', I'm robbin' you n*ggas who dodgin' and don't know when to serve
When I strap my .45 Glock I'm constantly creepin', that's no surprise
n*gga, this ain't no bad dream, open yo mothaf*ckin' eyes
Finger on da trigger, thinkin' crazy when I'm anxiously
Riddlin' off of wreckin' sh*t in the progress of a robbery
No need for the 411 to ask for ya mothaf*ckin' stash spot
Prepare to cap yo ass in the head and run off with yo f*ckin' rocks
The legend out the f*ckin' [?] and vamp away from the f*ckin' scene
Another pimp from the South, 411, I'm comin' clean
[Chorus: Kingpin Skinny Pimp & Koopsta Knicca]
n*ggas comin' clean, rollin' mean
I'm gettin' 'bout tired of this sh*t
This that-this that type of sh*t that'll make you click, to get your ass in
n*ggas comin' clean, rollin' mean
I'm gettin' 'bout tired of this sh*t
This that-this that type of sh*t that'll make you click, to get your ass in