Fes Taylor - Warriors Lyrics
f/ Jack Don, L.I.S., Tommy Guns[Intro: Jack Don]Check one-twoYeah, Stray Dogs/Two 4 War collaboShadow Government, check itUh, uh, check it[Jack Don]Yo all I need is my liquor and weedRollin' dice on the stage, this my life for the world to seeI make it hard for you niggaz to breatheI'm air tight with a mic, clutch ya throat then proceed to squeezeI'm hard to please, easy to bribeTake the panties off the baddest ***** then get in her thighsNo lie, cuz I, practice G and get into jeansWhile you actin' sweet and give 'em ya CREAMAmerican dream, get lost in the streetsBounty hunter on the beat, quick to auction ya teethWe cook beef, nigga (Cook beef, nigga)What you claim is real is fakeLet the, guns come and raise the stakesErase ya face, replace ya spaceRight in slings, now ya feel it in ya veins like a high-speed chaseThe slums feelin' me, two tab twos and no trilogyFlow like a pool of sharks, ain't no swimmin', see?I could tell a cloud to fly***** around and the rain fall a little, now the Sun in ya eyeEasy to die, switch sides sweeter than piesNigga I spit four tales that the listeners byJack and the Rye, maybe just jackin' a rideOr some Jersey Drive shit with ya mother insideGet ready to fry, lean left, V-twelve-IMust say world play, multi times fiveInhale smoke, blow it up to the skyTake another toke, take another vote, yeah slum's S.I.Gaten Isle niggaz ready to rideYou could die tryin' to cop a weed bag, should've swallowed ya pride[Chorus 2X: L.I.S.]My Warriors is the sickest clickOh Two 4 WarriorsStraight from the Shao' and don't take no shitMy Two 4 Warrior fam[Tommy Guns]Listen, nigga, you don't know me boyGettin' stuntin', catch somethin' in ya throwback boyIt must be the gangsta in meThat could make ya chest burn from them slugs like ya had shots from RemyCan't stop the envy but there ain't no stoppin' 'emTalk what ya talk dog'Til I'm bustin' off rounds at you kids like the trenchcoat mafiaNine styles, dog, you can't hold me grungin'We can see how many slugs you can hold in ya stomachSome little ass niggaz, you ain't talkin' 'bout nothin'Every fiend on the block tryin' to hollar at meSo I'm cookin' up, dog, like Chef BoyardeeIt's the T.G., the O.G., slugs you can hold threeDon't act like you know me cuz I clapped ya handCuz I won't be thinkin' twice when I'm clappin' ya manI cop grams by the body weight, hold down Gotti weightLive ya life, dog, there's a chance you could die todayI get fried today, poppin' 'em downCuz you niggaz gon' snitch when you hear that soundYeah..[Chorus 2X][Fes Taylor]Yo I'm the one you should fear, comin' preparedI put you somewhere near people under the stairsGun thunderin' ears, lightnin' strikesI'm nice on mics, pipin' ya wife, icin' the diceI'm a high roller, bi-polar, hood made me psychoGot a three mil' bail, on the run like MichaelWrite a recite too, deeper than scripturesin the Bible, from long distance, hit you with riflesThese haters is spitful, want me to flopArtists and labels don't want me to dropScared that I'm better, they're stealin' they cheddarSame ones frontin' like they wasn't feelin' MonetaFrom four-wheelin' Berettas to pushin' BenzesThrow diamonds in the lenses, corporate takeoverI buy in on ya business, Grinch Who Stole ChristmasThief in the sandwich too, barrel glow like Rudolph's noseWhen the cannon blew, Taylor man-handle ya bootsSmoother than shampoo, make sure the camera on viewYa radio tuned, one for the money and two for the showAnd three for these niggaz that be pimpin' these hoesMan, y'all stupid *****es better get with the programWe ***** *****es to rap so ***** a slow jamI'm the truth in the booth, move when I shootWipe out ya family tree, executin' ya roots[Chorus 2X][Hook to fade: L.I.S.]Oh Oh Two 4 Warriors.. Two 4 WarriorsOh Two 4 Warriors.. my Two 4 Warrior fam
