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Mob Rules - Right Back At You Freestyle Lyrics

Right Back At You (Freestyle) Song Lyrics
Right Back At You (Freestyle) by Mob Rules {*opening gunshot courtesy DJ Whoo Kid*}

Yea (yo P it's on in this motherfucker) that 2003 shit
Yo check it out

[Havoc]
Fuck where you at kid, fuck where you from
Pistol-whip a nigga dumb slugs {*DAMN*} hittin up lungs (uh-huh)
My nigga just got sent to the sprungs(?), shit is real
He went for razors spittin them shits from under his tongue
And from birth I was a hustler, no talk I'm buckin ya
No matter if a dime bitch, my nigga bitch ain't fuckin her
Loyalty to the click, forever Mobb 'til I die BITCH
(BEOTCH) Open my casket wide
So you can see how fly, nigga from N.Y. do it
Nigga front on me, and die, so why do it
I swear, feel like I've been here before, my first dealings went raw
And tried to convert it to cash that's pure {*WHOO.. KID*}
We gettin money niggaz fingers behind triggers, that go without sayin
Block ain't affiliated we sprayin
And anybody that you see, gettin past us payin
On some "Quiet Storm" shit, motherfucker it's still rainin

[Chorus: Prodigy]
Aiyyo - what we got the drop on you kid, now we got you
You got the heart to get biz without your crew?
Let's get it on nigga do what we gotta do
You buck at me I'm buckin right back at you
We got the drop on you kid, now we got you
You got the heart to get biz without your crew?
Let's get it on Dunn do what we gotta do
You buck at me I'm buckin right back at you

[Prodigy]
Let me start things off
In the room just drinkin my drink, check out my thoughts
I'll be buried too soon, but at the same time
I see a very good future, what it's gon' be Dunn
You never know will ya, got guns by the pi-dound
To destroy beef, better tell your dawg sit down
I hits off the (? ?) like a little green army man
Pullin grenade pins on the floor shootin
Murder a human, invadin my space
And do the slip like Thomas Crown, vacate the place
Take your bitch like, Tony Montana or Goldie
Swift with my talk like the serpent did Eve
When my niggaz emerge, we intensify things
You can smell it in the air that's the shit, hittin the fan
Niggaz gon' feel me when my thing bang
And we continue to party like eternal Sunday

[Outro]
Shout out.. Infamous Records.. ha ha
Can't forget, LandSpeed {*blam} yea yea