John Doe

Lyrics

[Hook: C-Bo] Fuck that nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe Mag .44 put a tag on his toe Like, that nigga gone That nigga gone That nigga gone When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome Fuck that nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe Mag .44 put a tag on his toe Like, that nigga gone That nigga gone That nigga gone When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome [Verse 1: C-Bo] That nigga's a bitch That nigga's a snitch They gon' find that nigga fucked up, duct-taped, butt-naked in a ditch Shoulda plead the Fifth cause this might be the last deal Better eat good cause tonight just might be your last meal Cause my killas gon' eat that When they see that, decease that When they see that, release that .40 Cal in his chest like "keep that" If the nigga blink once, repeat that Gon' send him to his maker Caretaker just close the casket, even do his make-up Fuck nigga done fucked up And he know that when they bucked up Had his last breath get sucked up Then his eyes freeze and they stuck up, like Daaaamn, dead man walking Cause I ain't never ever seen a dead man talking Buck 50, that's it, baby Lorena Bobbit, now kiss the babies My niggas lit, they sick and crazy Busting at them fake niggas ever since the 80s Stuffed in trash bags, duct-taped Switchblade, you fucked mane If you afraid of God then he'd spare your life But to a nut, to kill you it's nothing [Hook: C-Bo] Fuck that nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe Mag .44 put a tag on his toe Like, that nigga gone That nigga gone That nigga gone When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome Fuck that nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe Mag .44 put a tag on his toe Like, that nigga gone That nigga gone That nigga gone When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome [Verse 2: Tech N9ne] A real killer won't tell you that he comin' That's why when you on my celly steady wolfing like a woman it's funny Cause when you summoned the one who's stunning with gunning Hear my governor humming the minute you get to running It's fucked up when a nigga next of kin Death threats, no it ain't the way you text a friend Let's begin, he must be ready for Tech to sin On a soyboy that must had a lot of estrogen I was in Vegas chilling, every day just billing Used to be homies, they tripping 'cause I made this mil' and They wanna spray this villain, 'cause I made an outrageous killing They want my money [yo, are they just ill and] They ain't got no stock in this Strange shit Made the niggas that can't hang, sit How you claim this and got lame spit Nigga just had to look, you can't bang, bitch! Biting the hand that fed you was the utmost disrespect Niggas I used to trust though, dissed the Tech Okay, but when I bust jokes hit the deck Ain't with me 'cause you suck? So disconnect-ed If you think you tough, hoes get reject-ed I'm a nigga, what, four-fifth-protect-ed I don't give a fuck, pros get the check, nigga! Don't be hitting my phone Like I got something you own Used to be young, now we grown You didn't make it, your rhythm could never stay on C-Bo hit me but he didn't hit you for this song Cause you never was properly flown So if you think that you running up on me with the chrome That's gonna be when your children say "daddy gone" [Hook: C-Bo] Fuck that nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe Mag .44 put a tag on his toe Like, that nigga gone That nigga gone That nigga gone When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome Fuck that nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe That nigga, he John Doe Mag .44 put a tag on his toe Like, that nigga gone That nigga gone That nigga gone When I see him I'ma hit him with the nickel plated chrome [Verse 3: T-Nutty] (Look) Bo say fuck that nigga? Then it's fuck that nigga Can't show no love to these suckas, nigga 'Specially the ones that be talking and snitching all off on my business discussion, nigga With the business like a Russian, nigga Get to busting, why you fussing, nigga? 9/11, get that cussing Got you niggas ducking, like Daffy and Plucky nigga You's a lucky nigga, saved by the bell Told on the homie, now we gotta pay bail Layin' in a cell finna raise hell Thinking bout his scrill, how to feed his kids in a white man's world When niggas cross game it's a cold thang Thought he got away but somebody told his whole name Caught him with a K and a little bit of cocaine Find out where he stay and it's on That nigga gone, that nigga gone Fuck that nigga, he John Doe So it's rat-tat-tat and getting bombed on Gorillas in the buildings walking on banana peelers Tryna catch a nigga slipping, "there he go!" and get to tripping Even if a nigga crippin he don't matter if he snitching He gon have to get some stitches when the Mob gon get the job done Fucking with top guns You niggas acting like bitches, stay close to a fence, it's to hop one With the shit cause I'm [top?] son, on the blocc, I still live by the code I can't fuck with you if you ever told Keeping it real is [a feeling to go]