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Tear Da Club Up Thugs Paper Chase Lyrics

Last updated: 06/01/2010 12:00:00 PM

Chorus x 2
When it's on then it's on
It can't be erased
Tear Da Club Up Thugs and Fatal
On a Paper Chase

When it's on then it's on
It can't be erased
Tear Da Club Up Thugs and Fatal
We on a Paper Chase

Verse 1
Never wastin' em
Had a slug bug chasin' em
Spin em before they spun
The M-1, close-casin' em
Defacin' em like county property
He'd die for me
Spittin' on your whole image, I rob you and make a mockery
Yo ya see that party by Haus Cucasimenas
Trife on that ass
Who better hit the ground fizast
Fuck that financially
Fatal stable satanically
Mash on your little stash niggaz testin' the family
Play the eddie cane with your petty game
Breakin' ya un-ready friend when you fuck with who-freddy sein
Nigga dip off blood, I get that back and let the free fall
Hit ya with six shots, let you in bail ass hits off
Fatal Hussein, from the cradle to the grave
Tokin' like Big Suge till every label know my name
And they ask "What's up with Yak?" and "Who shot Pac?"
And "Who rode on you tryin' to test the block?"

Chorus x 2

Verse 2
[DJ Paul]
What the fuck!
Four niggaz bailin' out of a black range rover
Lucky Luciano, lucky as a fuckin' four leaf clover
I got my boy cast there, hangin' mother fucker sat there
Sayin now she was a tear da little homicide
Just got (?), like these niggaz no good the trigger man
Fatal flew him from another hood doin yeah
Those are the rules in this mafia race
Tear Da Club up Thugs mash down on a g-string...

Verse 3
[Juicy J]
When we drop
Always keep them cocked
Make them things pop
On the block
Niggaz never stop
Tryin' to run cops
Out the hood, Niggaz no good
Ridin' in the wood
With the grain, fatal hussein
Gonna bring the pain
Put the coo to your 40 brew
Brothers on the loose
Nothing new cuz we let em out
If we fight or shoot
All you hoes weak
And I know do you wanna roll
With these thugs livins
In the blood ghetto hesito foo

Break out artillery, hide the mother fuckin' product
Break out artillery, hide the mother fuckin' product


Verse 4
[Lord Infamous]
Now it is time to get rough with the drama
Bitches you cannot escape from the hunter
Evil scarecrow, Devil spells go
Deep in my soul, Blood on my clothes
Scrip mental hands and I must squeeze the weapon
Listen to sounds of the lit when we step in
Infamous comes from the south territory
Listen to some of my demonic poetry
Circles a trip, plus it's there smokin' ganja
Rituals with dead bodies on the furniture
So many soldiers are coming to destroy you
Six million sinister satanic warriors
Ill still feel drill will kill ninni-milli flama philly
I will fill the enemy with up by twenty slugs
To the mug, four more tricks in the mud quick
I want all my tear da club thugs to rip this shit

Chorus (fades out)
Thanks to OnEnInEsIx for submitting Paper Chase Lyrics.