[ Featuring Juvenile ]
[Lil' Wyte]
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...ah yeah Hypnotize Minds, wassup Lil' Wyte featuring Juvenile
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Crash the mothaf*ckin' club, the REMIX!! - and its goin' down for you hoes
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Like THIS!!...
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Multiple Mental scares, outlining your insides wit' bars
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Grippin' your nina hard, bitch by blood hata by heart
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When the f*ck you gon' start, recognize that life is a game
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And it's always the same, them dice you rolling ain't 'Bouta change
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I'm snatchin' your chain, reimbursing you with some pain
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It's all over mane, in which direction he makes a zane
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I ain't 'bout that fame, I'm 'bout the cheese, and this 'Bouta bring
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So f*ck your hoe name, with you my faith was lacking some things
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I'm starting all over with composition sticky like doja
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And I thought I told ya when I come through I'm crushing like boulders
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I'm hard ta top, shoot at plenty I bet it's gon' knock it - whatever I drop
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But even your beef can't touch what I got
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You wildin' or not, if is so bring all your beef ta the spot
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Hope you got your glock, I'm strapped with no hesi-tant ta pop
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So back your words up, and keep on choking out on that cock
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You like it or not, its everlasting - ain't 'Bouta stop
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[Lil' Wyte - repeat 8X]
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We 'Bouta Crash Da Club - throw some chairs
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[DJ Scratching] Break - Break...Break - Break...Break Something
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[Juvenile]
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Aiyo smoke something, choke something, get real nice
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We ain't gon, fall on our face - but we gon' be right
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Look, police ain't around when I do my dirt
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Becuz I map it all loud and then I put in work
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You with them freaks - I be in the streets
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Y'all be wearing them Bee's - I be wearing Ree's
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Running wit' my g's from the U-T-P
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This is where I'm gonna be until I D-I-E
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Wodie, it's goin' down from the Easy Bay ta the West Bay
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Where niggaz drank V.S.O.P. until they breath stank
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Bitch gatta say something, err' time
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They never handle they buisness, but staying in line
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Seeking you will find, the loaded up .9
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Wanted at 'cha cuz it of fa' stealin' my mind
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Juvenile and Three-6 thats a-one-of-a-kind
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Tooken up yo golds - nigga get ready ta blind
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[Hook]
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[Lil' Wyte]
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I'm 'Bouta crash da club, break the law
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Throw some chairs, crack your jaw
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If it's killing season - ain't no reason - ain't no need ta stale
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I'm the one put here ta absorb all this energy and pain
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Non-stop-pop-from-the-top-of-the-clip-in-ya-glock, I still don't feel you mane
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Cause of that, ground the coke and now I'm puffin' a pound of dro
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When I'm on that level and wit' my killaz you will be found on the flo'
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I must confes, I ain't 'bout shit, but if you think ta cross me bitch
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You'll end up stanky - walk the planky - and empty out your pockets bitch
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Break da law, break your leg, crash da club and crack your neck
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Wit' these issues that I'm facing - daily I should tote a tec
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Get respect, that's no option, all the haters filled with toxin'
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Walk right through the center of the crowd and pistols get ta flossin'
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Causing problem - dodging bullets - soon as I corrupt the scene
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Leaving damage - making havoc reaction f*ckin' with me
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Chair to your bizack go through my head when you ignite the flame
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Lead to your bizack of your hizead before it hit your brain
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[Hook]
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