MO3 - They Can't Lyrics

(SplurgeTheGod made another one)
Nigga I'm cutthroat, on B Jizzle, nigga
F*ck you talking 'bout? (Woah oh, oh)
Trey walk 'em down gang, gang

Hit us up, out on a nigga, get him outta here
We hit him by his head
Prosecutor know my whole name (Damn)
Duckin' them bitches, tryna get wit 'em
Yeah, I gotta be swift
Load up the clips, finish they whole gang
I ain't got no shame
Thinkin' about my enemy when I be
Reminiscin' 'bout Lil' Bubba, ho
They gotta die (They gotta die)
I'm tryna send all of them
Bitches to the afterlife
Get crucified with this choppa then
Go chop to Christ
(They getting wacked tonight)
Body for body, call it, I got it
It's not a lot of niggas
Who don't know better (Nah)
Respect the murderer, gun power
We kill every nigga standing in front of us
Bitch you dancing with a daredevil
38 special
Nothing but killer tactics like I'm
Trained for the Marines
I got a problem, I be on somethin'
'Cause every time I see the opps
I get excited like pass me that 30
Spin around, I'm finna smoke one (Baow)
I'm the holy one
I'll put a whole in somethin'
Dolo, I don't need a gang
I be lurking, huh (Lurking, huh)
Police in my house wanna search for guns
And yeah I still got all my dirty ones
(What?)
Disrespect on the gang, you get flipped
You can tell the way I look
I make 'em scared oh you nervous, huh?
I make 'em shut the f*ck up
If he ain't tryna step (Shh)
He keep playing and I tell him
Get a shirt or somethin'
Fill the churches up (yeah)
Tell 'em all I'ma kill 'em
I don't need a hitta, just all my gorillas
(Nah) father forgive me but I gotta take 'em
Send 'em to they maker
Ooh, I'm too official (Baow)
Talk to the devil for days
He told me to pray (Baow)
He'll put a nigga on a picture
Ya whole neighborhood wearing them shirts
Talking about how they love you and miss you
Yeah

I'm that sto' on the corner (Corner)
I'm that crack in the pot (All the way)
I'm that strap that you got (All the way)
I'm the one that they don't wanna
(Nah ah ah ah) cross the line
When it's time to sling that iron (Baow)
(Why, IIII)

They can't f*ck with me (Can't f*ck with me)
Can't f*ck with me (Can't f*ck with me)
Can't f*ck with me (Can't f*ck with me)
They can't f*ck with me (Can't f*ck with me)
Can't f*ck with me (Why, IIII)
Can't f*ck with me (Oh, uh uh)
Can't f*ck with me (Why, IIII)

Taliban, I'm the murder man
This the Klan, think you heard of them
Radio tripping, don't wanna give me a chance
Hitters be lurking, and ain't scared of them
I can do the murder dance
Store that Beretta run under my
Sweater, run up a devil
Tell' em that it's rock-a-bye
My hittas thinkin' like it's lethal
Pull up on side of the car
Talkin' to the reaper
My young nigga get 'em gone
Talkin' for a feature
Tell' them niggas it's murder
Whenever I catch
Want a problem in they section
Hit us, going extra, yeah
My gorillas they gon' fetch 'em, yeah
And that choppa, it got extra legs
Caught a opp on the freeway, did him dirty
Left him brain dead
When I jump in that water, it rain man
Bitch I'm cutthroat, this gangland (On gang)

I'm that sto' on the corner (Corner)
I'm that crack in the pot (All the way)
I'm that strap that you got (All the way)
I'm the one that they don't wanna
(Nah ah ah ah) cross the line
When it's time to sling that iron (Baow)
(Why, IIII)

They can't f*ck with me (Can't f*ck with me)
Can't f*ck with me (Can't f*ck with me)
Can't f*ck with me (Can't f*ck with me)
They can't f*ck with me (Can't f*ck with me)
Can't f*ck with me (Why, IIII)
Can't f*ck with me (Oh, uh uh)
Can't f*ck with me (Why, IIII)