Dj Clue - Dangerous (feat. Muggs & Lady Luck) Lyrics
f/ Lady Luck, Muggs (a.k.a. Paul Cane)* send corrections to the typist[Muggs (Paul Cane)]Dont get nuthin confused about me, this nigga hea throw clipsYou think you could hold three, nigga hea go sixI bring +Heat+ like Deniro flix, my team lock and loadand rock and roll like Aerosmith***** cops I got Cochran Shapiro chipsOne point five in ice in each earlobe shit***** who you and your man go getMe and cat take +*****'s+ on boat rides on some Soprano shitMove wit troops in cougar coupeslike beeno and notes for a G a piece, they'll remove your roofYa better spread when the ruger shootPaul Cane got fire, everything ya heard on Clue was the truthIt's like who want what what everTou and your man play tough ya gon get plucked togetherAt gun point gettin stuck togetherBlack Benz tinted out, buggy headlights stuck together[Chorus 2X: Lady Luck + Muggs (Paul Cane)]We aint jokin no more (This ain't a game to us)Got a lot of hungry niggas that came wit us (We dangerous)***** back aim and bust(Lady Luck, Paul Cane, who could bang wit us)[Lady Luck]They said I rap like a man, and act like a manSo when it come to war she gon clap like a manShort arrogant wit this gat up in my handChicks dont play cute I'm still attractin your manRock many lands, Japan to Philly sandsLuck stay ghetto like Rican dolla bandsOnly thing I take serious is garments and moneyand late periods [there she is]Screamin in a 2 by 2, too fly 2 seatertoo much ice, too cold, 2 heatersLove men but got lesbian gunsthat love to lick off at you pussies for funSo play dumb in these dum dupshit you where you pump cumstick you for your lump sumswe the ones you run fromTill the day my lungs done for blocksI hit hard like Ronnie LottsLady Luck got it locked[Chorus][Muggs (Paul Cane)]Ya talkin greasy like Paul ain't a nigga wit firelike I aint got guns or killers for hireGot wolves that'll run through mask and armslike point break clear the safe out and smash your momsOver 40 years old still blastin chromeSmiles never cross they face till there's cash in palmCause they still do murders for bucksGave em put hollow points through you then pass the burner to LuckWe like a 2 G Bonnie and Clyde, back to back in beefwit two heats a piece, mami gon' rydeSpit four, she behind me wit fiveY'know Paul Cane and Lady Luck MO catch homo's and slideBefore we drop the gunsWipe off the prints push the pedal through the floorand get away back to the bricks, ya don't want nothin wit usPaul Cane, Street Life, Desert Storm, we dangerous[Chorus]
