Oh No He Didn't

Mr. Pérez
Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth
And nothin' but the truth, so help you God?
Fuck you, honor

Pit is back for another one
This time he's back harder, stronger
And, and, and a little more troublesome
Double the guns (guns)
Double the funds (funds)
Double the bitches (bitches)
Double the fun (fun)

We can take it to the north, then bring it to the south
The dirty, dirty
Where they got them choppers, choppers
And them 30, 30s
You can be a hell of an elephant, nigga
You ain't gotta be intelligent to see that's irrelevant, nigga

Size and shit when they firing clips
You ain't a thug or a gangsta, stop lyin' you bitch
I see you study 2Pac like a history lesson
His murder was a mystery that made history bridgin', but
No matter how much juice he had, when it came to the law
He got no poetic justice, that's the truth, dawg
The what?, that's the truth dawg
Truth hurts, but, but, but that's the truth dawg

Oh, oh, no, he didn't (oh)
Oh, oh, yes, he did (oh)
Oh, oh, no, he didn't
Yes, he did, yes, he did (oh)
Oh, oh, no, he didn't (oh)
Oh, oh, yes, he did (oh)
Oh, oh, no, he didn't
Yes, he did, yes, he did (oh)

Oh, oh, no, I didn't
Oh, oh, yes, I did
C-U-B-O gonna rip it up
Y'all don't want that extra clip
I'm from Miami, man
Pretty some y'all understand
Understand I'm the man, move them thangs hand to hand

I open shop, shop, take over yo' block, block
Pull up on that thang slow, everybody stop, stop
I'm a stunna, baby
Hustla, baby
Get it, baby
Take it, baby
Drive 'em crazy
Now really, have you seen me lately?

There he comes, there he goes
Where he flows, people know
He gon' blow
He been talking get, get, get, get that dough

Y'all hear that blocka, blocka
So call the doctor, doctor
I deal what I deal
When the bottom talk, the choppers chopper
So get ready for Cubo, 'cause they say he gon' blow
Get, get ready for what?
Get ready for Cubo
So get ready for Cubo, 'cause they say he gon' blow
Get, get ready for what?
Get ready for Cubo

Oh, oh, no, he didn't (oh)
Oh, oh, yes, he did (oh)
Oh, oh, no, he didn't
Yes, he did, yes, he did (oh)
Oh, oh, no, he didn't (oh)
Oh, oh, yes, he did (oh)
Oh, oh, no, he didn't
Yes, he did, yes, he did (oh)

Verse two
Don't make me flip out, turn around and hurt you
I ain't the violent type, I'm a nice guy
Light skin, light eyes
Who dreamed of a totally, totally different type of American sliced pie
Two point one seven eight, exact weight

If it's that raw like the south, here to turn base
If ya smart when you see that murder, turn yo' face
Fuck DNA bitch, nigga we'll burn the place
If ya don't see me at the crib
That means I'm on the road, puttin' food on the table for my kids

All my hungry hustlas made it stick to your ribs
Ain't too many hustlas that can do what I did
I stay on my grizzle fo' shizzle, fo' shizzle
Thanks to my nizzle, little jizzle, I'm off them hizzle fo' shizzle, yeah
The what?, that's the truth, dawg
Truth hurts, but, but, but that's the truth, dawg

Oh, oh, no, he didn't (oh)
Oh, oh, yes, he did (oh)
Oh, oh, no, he didn't
Yes, he did, yes, he did (oh)
Oh, oh, no, he didn't (oh)
Oh, oh, yes, he did (oh)
Oh, oh, no, he didn't
Yes, he did, yes, he did



Credits
Writer(s): Winston Thomas, Armando Christian Perez, Thomas Simons, Frank Roman
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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