C-Murder Don't Make Me Lyrics

(C-Murder)
(CP3.com...whassap...dont make me get that gizzat)
Hook
Don't f*ck around and make me hit you wit dat choppa
(don't make me get that Gun)
(dont make me get that gizzat, don't make me get that
Gun)
Don't f*ck around and make me hit you wit dat choppa
(don't make me get that gizzat, don't make me get that
Gun)
Don't make me get my Gat, don't make me get my Gun
Don't f*ck around and make me chop you wit dat choppa
(Don't make me get my Gat, don't make me get my Gun)
(C-Murder)
Don't make me get that thang and make some people go to
jail for ya,
Ya might call the Choppas but the po-po's call the
crime stoppas
Yo, im deep up in the ghetto leave the 40's and using
perkacets
Takin thangs, purses, chains its all that the perps is
wit,
murder 1 an murder 2 the evidence is critical, plus the
motive wit it doow?
The jury might not let ya go, i betcha if ya dry the
riva, probably you'll find em all, but i aint sayin
shit, f*ck around an have a re-call.
Closed case, see the pictures,
Oh they found some fingerprints, re-opened by the
governement, he musta been wit it den,
vereran don't need no kind a evidence an thats a fact,
you gotta keep it on the low an make me go get that
gat...
(hook x 2)
(T-Boz)
T-Boz an C-Murder, boii we thuggin for sure, f*cks wit
Limit or TRU, an bitches will get curbed, kick doors (?????)extacy and optimal, strip clubs buck naked hoes,
white dude now black hoes, what you sees not battle
rappin, bitch im in to car jackin', kidnappin', droppin
dope, triple beams an bitch slappin,
alot of rappers think they hard, gave these bitches hoe
card, talkin shit in studios, im on the streets in
camoflauge, tattoos and battle scars, convicted felons
an hooptie cars, im in your house, say whats up, your
p*ssy ass can catch a charge,
please dont make me call your name, its a damn shame
wat the game don changed, you eva talk about TRU an
believe ima let yo brains hang...
(hook x 2)
Silk Tha Shocka
Yo, ma gun thats my nigga, thats ma woodie thats ma
round, if you let em catch you slippin he gon put cha
in tha ground, i was know at a early age for totin the
gauge, wit hallow heads, im dumpin fedz an tryin to get
paid, im dedicated to represent, that TRU click bitch,
i spit that real shit for wigs to get split, ma finga
stays on that trigga to murda a bitch nigga, us niggas
dont yap about it we commin to deal witcha, if C give
me the word, im leaving ya on the curb, chopped up like
a uncut bird, ready to serve, ma nigga we play it raw
and take that beef shit far, leave ya body smokin like
toke and chopped wit a sawed off
(hook x 2)