Don't Mess Songtext / Lyric

(The moral of that story is

Don't mess around and get yo ass stomped)



(The Godfather Rock)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah- yeeaaaah)

Boo-Yaa funkin it up

(Don't mess with)

Boo-Yaa funkin it up

(Don't mess with)

Boo-Yaa funkin it up

(Don't mess with)

Boooooooo-Yaa!



Yeah

(Yeah)

(Come on)

(Posses better step back)

Tell em what it is)






(VERSE 1: Gangsta R? dd)

Don't mess with a riot, we're prisoners of emotion

How politicians figure they have the potion?

But I'm the witch doctor, I came to rock ya

(And if it don't work) Then I'm gonna sock ya

Don't need the violence, but violence is here

Listen up close and put on a riot gear

Cause Boo Yaa T.R.I.B.E. is comin up hard

(What you think about the posse?) I think we see in a graveyard

I'm the rap criminal, comin from mym limo

Every lyric I say, I write it down on my memo

The MC in commandm my A.K.? they banned?

Me and you one on one, Ganxta R? dd still stand

I never dirty my back, I never ever get jacked

On stage (cause he carries a gat)

.44's large, I got a big bodyguard

The rap mafia Godfather Rock is in charge

You don't mess

With the Boo-Yaa funk



(The Godfather Rock)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah- yeeaaaah)

Boo-Yaa funkin it up

(Don't mess with)

Boo-Yaa funkin it up

(Don't mess with)

Boo-Yaa funkin it up

(Don't mess with)

Boooooooo-Yaa!



I'm gonna tell you only once



(Yeah)

Yo Loc

Pass me that second clip, homeboy

I can do this

(Tell em what we about)



Don't mess with a dopedealer, makin transactions

Cause makin money is their satisfaction

Sellin drugs is the way they survive

Smokin drugs is the way they die

So who's the main killer, the pusher or the user?

You figure it out, I'm not here to accuse ya

Cause I'm a dope dealer, slingin records

Makin records, breakin records, settin records

So now you know what time it is

You don't mess with the stuff, you can't hang with this

I'm a pusher, a killer, never to be followed

(To all you posses) 187 with a beer bottle

SO how you figure, the R? dd behind the trigger

Huh, you try to run, I hunt you like a ninja

Cause I'm so wuick (how quick?) like lightning

To MC's the R? dd is so frightening

They keep askin me (R? dd what you writing?)

A letter to the posse who comin here fightin

So like a dope dealer would

You shortstop, my customer, get sprayed with the A.K.

You don't mess

Homeboy



(The Godfather Rock)

(Yeah, yeah, yeah- yeeaaaah)

Boo-Yaa funkin it up

(Don't mess with)

Boo-Yaa funkin it up

(Don't mess with)

Boo-Yaa funkin it up

(Don't mess with)

Boooooooo-Yaa!



I'm gonna say it only once



Come on

(Yeah)

You think they're ready for the lasy one?

(I don't know)

Bring on that clip homeboy

(That one was too funky)

(Give it to me anyway)

(Come on)



Don't mess with the boys in black when your ass get tapped

LIfe of last (lane) never been delayed

Commit a crime on stage and still get paid

Makin dollars to holler, your posse's to follow

The T.R.I.B.E. get bigger, your posse get smaller

Your lyrics is scratched, your record is dubbed

You ask what's the funk hypin up the club

Boo-Yaa funkin it up

The you turn to your lady as you say it again

Boo-Yaa funkin it up

Yeah

Don't mess with a bullet when the trigger is pulled

You don't mess with the T.R.I.B.E. when we act a fool

The Godfather Rock TE, once he starts snappin

O.M.B. on the bass, he starts slappin

R? dd starts rappin, T.R.I.B.E. start cappin

Your posse plays it up, I say, "Yo, what happened?"

Now they got me in a cell, but they fail

I still got E.K.A. and Don-L raisin hell

(Ooh, that's funky mama)