Fes Taylor - I Told Ya Lyrics
[Intro: Fes Taylor]You know what this is, this that Mighty HealthyThat Two 4 War Entertainment shitI told them niggas, man, I told them not to mess with them niggas, manEverybody, hands to the sky, stick 'em upEverybody, hands to the sky, stick 'em upEverybody, hands to the sky, stick 'em upEverybody, stick 'em up[Fes Taylor]Aiyo, Taylor on the street, bully in the blockI heard you holding heat, give it to me hotNon-stop, yo, we never friendly with copsHit off rooftops, where ya hoe got her virginity poppedAiyo, you cross L.G., now you gotta dieIt's W.P., laying in the grey skyWith Soul Train broads, plates of jiggawoo pieOr we aim at the law, keep the pistol by your sideYou lied to the world, told 'em you was a thugWe stepping on your Lugz, when we up in the clubDirty dubs, thirty-thirty slugs and mugsPut your face in the mud, your people holding a grudgeIf ya'll want it to? No *****ing problemHop out on your crew, yeah, nigga, I popped 'emAnd what, all of your men's is buttPack it in, pack it up, then we clapping it upAnd now Profes, ain't to be *****ed withTake off the Roley with the diamond clustersLet me get that, had a chit-chat, with your kit katRugged all night, she told me where you live atTwenty four hours later, pillaging your cribGot your wife tied up, stick her with pins in front of the kidsPop your lid, extort the whole block and slidKid, see me holding shots to your lidsCopped the Benz, then ya'll really going hateDon't call me by my name, just consider me the great[Interlude: Fes Taylor]I told them, I told 'em not to do it, man, yo, yeah...Everybody, hands to the sky, stick 'em upEverybody, hands to the sky, stick 'em upEverybody, hands to the sky, stick 'em up, stick 'em up[Fes Taylor]Aiyo, Warriorz for life, son keep it MillyKillah Hillbillies, ice you like Chilly WillyGet it started, get retarted, wish you had a chanceTo say bye, like ships departed, we double park itHeads is off, blasting you poors, last longer thanBatteries, attached to your horn with mad swordsYo, we run the block, who wanna take itTalking to the cops, you could fry with the baconLife is what you make it, learned it long agoGet on anybody's song, for dough, we make it blowShaolin, New York, that's what I'm reppingYou better not come to my hood, without a weaponTwo 4 War, see me standing in the frontPulled up at the club, in a slamming Benz truckMusic pump when we hop out, my playas got to glow***** slap Officer Brown in the 1-2-0Aiyo, we don't really care, so why ya'll asking?Phony MC's, I hate ya'll with a passionProfes, niggas know me, way backClapped at your homey, left his eightball holyIt's Pretty Toney, good looking out, the only MCTo care if he talking out, so what you staring at?Never seen a real rapper, battle me is likeDeath, the way you feel after, now you really wantDrama, I can bring it to you, it's so hard to say goodbyeMake 'em sing it to you, sing it to you[Outro: Fes Taylor]Sing it you, sing it to you, niggaI told 'em, man, I told ya'll niggas, manI told ya'll niggas, man, I told ya'll we wasn't playing manYa'll acting like these pistols don't go offLike we ain't gangsta... ya'll know what this isThis that official hip hop, that stick ya hands up, pop shitFeel me, yo, what up, Shaolin, Gatling Island, Cyanide, yeahYo... my Jungle Nilz niggas, my Killah Hill nigga, what up?This is a stick-up...
