Nan by City Morgue Lyrics
[Verse 1: SosMula]
(Mula)
Can't talk much if your jaw wired (Bitch)
Choke niggas out with the barbed wire (Bitch)
Pull up on the block, just park by it (Skrrt)
Nigga’s got a stash in the car tire
Feds get the iPhone calls wired
Sellin' bricks, you a little 8-ball buyer (Work)
Fiends took a week cause they bid higher (Work)
OD on the coke like Len Bias
Look, I hit the kitchen stove up, with the bakin' soda (Fish scale)
Dip into the oil, let it boil, can’t take the odor
Treat your block like a firin' range, when I spray the Cobra (Blaow)
Kick back, from the click-clack, might break a shoulder (Blaow)
Pussy nigga, it's a war report, no report card (Fuck outta here)
Shotgun, stash box, nigga, in a sports car (Grrah)
Niggas getting shot, miss a lot, pray to Allah
Bad bitch, she gon' fuck a nigga like a pornstar (Slide)
[Verse 2: ZillaKami]
Bitch, I mix up with the mid, givin' treats to all my pits (Okay)
If I'm swinging foot and fist, bloody mouth, it need a rinse (Okay)
Get your block turnt, mom hurt, talk to your sponsor (Okay)
With them choppers, it's Saunder's, all in your spine, bitch (Okay, okay, okay)
Niggas ain’t real ’cause they off of eight pills (Huh?)
Showed up to your man, I ain't like him, they ain’t real (Huh?)
Bitch, you not from these parts, you get killed (Okay)
Bitch, you not from these parts, you get killed (Okay)
[Chorus: ZillaKami]
Nah, nan nigga really want war with the gang (No, no, no, no, no)
Nah, nan nigga really gonna talk in my face (No, no, no, no, no)
Nah, nan nigga really uppin' drums and shit (No, no, no, no, no)
Except the Morgue, and that's about it (Chee)
(Mula)
Can't talk much if your jaw wired (Bitch)
Choke niggas out with the barbed wire (Bitch)
Pull up on the block, just park by it (Skrrt)
Nigga’s got a stash in the car tire
Feds get the iPhone calls wired
Sellin' bricks, you a little 8-ball buyer (Work)
Fiends took a week cause they bid higher (Work)
OD on the coke like Len Bias
Look, I hit the kitchen stove up, with the bakin' soda (Fish scale)
Dip into the oil, let it boil, can’t take the odor
Treat your block like a firin' range, when I spray the Cobra (Blaow)
Kick back, from the click-clack, might break a shoulder (Blaow)
Pussy nigga, it's a war report, no report card (Fuck outta here)
Shotgun, stash box, nigga, in a sports car (Grrah)
Niggas getting shot, miss a lot, pray to Allah
Bad bitch, she gon' fuck a nigga like a pornstar (Slide)
[Verse 2: ZillaKami]
Bitch, I mix up with the mid, givin' treats to all my pits (Okay)
If I'm swinging foot and fist, bloody mouth, it need a rinse (Okay)
Get your block turnt, mom hurt, talk to your sponsor (Okay)
With them choppers, it's Saunder's, all in your spine, bitch (Okay, okay, okay)
Niggas ain’t real ’cause they off of eight pills (Huh?)
Showed up to your man, I ain't like him, they ain’t real (Huh?)
Bitch, you not from these parts, you get killed (Okay)
Bitch, you not from these parts, you get killed (Okay)
[Chorus: ZillaKami]
Nah, nan nigga really want war with the gang (No, no, no, no, no)
Nah, nan nigga really gonna talk in my face (No, no, no, no, no)
Nah, nan nigga really uppin' drums and shit (No, no, no, no, no)
Except the Morgue, and that's about it (Chee)