Don’t Fucc Up lyrics

[Verse 1: Z-Dogg]
I'm wakin' up friday mornin' to a fat mack blunt
I grip my pump and load it up and put it into my trunk
I'm on my way to do a stang, for the four or five keys
I got my cellular phone and called up some of my G's
I picked them up off on the block, now we leavin' the scene
We lookin' mean, we ride so clean, now we fire up that green
We full of them blunts, full of that skunk
It's Z-Dogg in this b*tch
I got my pump, it's loaded up and I ain't takin' no sh*t
I'm 'bout to lay these n*ggas down, put this crown on my chest
So many n*ggas get caught slippin' with no bullet proof vest
I hit the junt and kicked the buster, put my pump to his head
You gotta drop off them keys, before you end up dead
Wе did the stang, we on the away wе took the mask off our face
We four deep, we straight from Frayser, never catchin' no case

[Verse 2: Mistermeanor]
Player-hatin' n*ggas wanna step to me
Mad, 'cause I'm clicked up with the Gimisum Family
f*ck that sh*t, I got the antidote to solve your problems
Kick in your doors, with my Glock and commence
To poppin' on a heavy n*gga, always wanna talk sh*t
Got 'em on his knees, cryin' like a punk b*tch
Pop 'em in his head with my motherf*ckin' steel
Gotta let him know this n*gga from the north is for real
Machete in the side of my back f*ckin' pocket
Take it out and shove it through your f*ckin' eye socket
Laugh, as the blood start to gush everywhere
Tie you to grenades, in a god damn chair
Mafia style killin' is what you be gettin'
Too late to beg and plead with me ask me for forgiveness
I quickly set the bomb, I hear his screams as I run
Crashin' through your window 'cause my mission has been done
[Verse 3: Big Hill]
Now officer friendly backin' off, because the blastin' of the sawed-off
Big baller, my rottweilers they maulers
I got that nine with the beam hollow point rip with teflon-tips
Makin' them busters scream, well, Levi's can't stitch them jeans
Face to the concrete as I leap back into my Lexus jeep
Stash my heat, and fired up a Tampa sweet
Cruisin' down your street, b*tch, now who's talkin' sh*t?
c*cksucker, flaugin' weak-ass skinny b*tch
Hey young broad, stay young, 'cause when you get big
Them water guns ain't toys, them n*ggas ain't no boys
These hoes creep, when you sleep
They servin' that alcohol with some Visine
Nighty-night, trick, sweet dreams

[Outro: Lil Ced]
Really, I can care less 'bout you, boy
f*ck up, Glock in my hand
Really, I can care less 'bout you, boy
Don't f*ck up, Glock in my hand
Really, I can care less 'bout you, boy, and your f*ckin' figures
Glock, Glock in my hand
Glock, Glock in my hand
Glock, Glock