Intro (unrestricted) Lyrics
'Til a motherf**ker know when you don't feel like screwin'
I did it, you do it, break the ties that bound
Keep a motherf**ker off you, keep your feet on the ground
Hey, f**k you if you can't go for that
And a double f**k you from Da Brat a tat tat
Let it all hang loose, never feelin' afflicted
Go for what you want and it's called, unrestricted
May the Lord be my witness
From the "Funk" to the "Tantrum" now "Unrestricted"
The K Town bitch too weak
In Chi villain they be killin' every mark in the district
Can y'all skill match it?
Right I kill Patrick from the six oh six fo' fo'
Got hit 'cause ya clip so slow
Motherf**kers can't do shit with "So, so"
Shine like a twenty inch mo, mo
For the Navi' on top of them dub's
Hit me in the mug, and deliver the bud
Now you talkin' 'bout my gul
Terror for the millenium, straight f**kin up anyone
(Hah, anyone, shit)
Steady bust like a semi gun
Murderin' over any drum, comin' out from the dark
Here to let you know here she come
Can't nobody do what I done
Niggaz and bitches think they run
Fin' ta throw another one of my "Tantrums" redrum
And the six oh six fo' fo' is where I'm from
Callin' on my nigga Twista to set this shit off
Two of the best motherf**kers on the West side
If I need to relieve stress I get high
This the introduction, unrestricted is how I bust in
Like a blow to the dome and a severe concussion, shock a hoe
And niggaz can talk about me, all they want
'Cause I'ma bad bitch
And I'ma continue to be that, 'til I'm gone
Shit, baby girl you ain't even gotta hurt 'em like that
Commit a murder like that
Let off like a ass kick and serve a hype track
Hit the world like volcano's
Earthquakes, bombs, thunder and lightnin'
No wonder it's frightening
Hoe's might as well not come out of hiding
Could you really be about to crush em'
Dustin 'em off like Hoffman and hush em'
Feel the repercussions of a girl
From a place where that gangsterin' and hustlin'
Ballin' and bustin' so lie low
Dodge low from my Chi flow
We smokin' up five oh
And work thirty calories off like Tae Bo
In the middle of the function flossin'
With a grip no script but "Legit Ballin"
Better go on with the shit talkin'
I create corpses for caskets and coffins
Niggaz don't want Twista to spit
I kick that Mobtastic shit
Introduction for a raw and sometimes psychotic bitch
Oh, I'm the befo', but Da Brat is the after
We pimpslap lame bitches just for the laughter
All or nothin', never a fraction
Yeah, you got it motherf**kin' Millie Jackson
You bitches, you bitches
Songwriter(s): Shawntae Harris, Carl Mitchell, Damon Elliott, Millie Jackson, Timothy Mosley
Copyright: Air Control Music Inc., It'S All Good Music, Double Ak Shun Music, D W E Music, Emi April Music Inc., WB Music Corp., BMG Rights Management (Ireland) Ltd.
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