Make Em Feel It

Lyrics

[Verse] First chance a nigga get, they gon' stab me in the back How the fuck you get money? You ain't never drunk Act' You ain't never hit the club and get escorted through the back I can still get a nigga knocked down for a rack These niggas ain't fuckin' with me, whoopin', that's a fact Next rapper say my name, gettin' his fuckin' head cracked I'm talkin' critical condition, put his ass on bed rest After that, we celebrate, hit the club, make a mess Bring me the coldest bitch with some ass and some breasts They ever get me in that room, I'm playin' blind and I'm deaf Everybody breakin' the code, it ain't no real niggas left Misleading the lil' niggas, got 'em thinkin' they can step I'ma tell 'em get some money, you ain't shit without a check I used to hit the 'Hound heart beating, prayin' I make it back You catch a case, you gotta sit, ain't nobody tell you that Yeah, this shit get real, nigga, welcome to the field, nigga [Chorus] Had to get back in my bag, got 'em worried for a minute Got my rings and stay humble, Robert Horry on you bitches Bitch, I'm known to stand on business, if you owe me, I need interest I had Philthy in Detroit shootin' dice in the trenches Niggas know not to ever play with mines, I be with killers We'd knock a nigga big homie down and make him feel it Bitch, I got so many hundreds in my bag, can feed a village Nigga rub me the wrong way, we puttin' him in a skillet [Verse 2] I be somewhere on a mission, you be somewhere out here trickin' Ridin' around, tryna reel a nigga in like I'm fishin' Bitch, I'm swimmin' with the sharks, you put a nigga shit in park Put his brains on the dashboards, I wonder what he thought Yeah, I wonder what he saw, wonder what that boy was thinkin' Ain't nobody dumb enough to touch my chain, I be with demons I just left ten in Neimans, I'm recordin' while I'm leanin' Got a plug in Pasadena, thinking about buyin' me a cleaners Brodie got into a shootout at the crib and lost a finger Black trucks back to back, my lil' niggas in the Stingers You ain't ready for this war, this how shit gon' go for me Have my lil' stripper bitch put you on the floor for me That's how shit supposed to be, hmm [Interlude] Yeah That's how it go Get out of line, nigga, get spanked, like a baby The biggest [Chorus] Had to get back in my bag, got 'em worried for a minute Got my rings and stay humble, Robert Horry on you bitches Bitch, I'm known to stand on business, if you owe me, I need interest I had Philthy in Detroit shootin' dice in the trenches Niggas know not to ever play with mines, I be with killers We'd knock a nigga big homie down and make him feel it Bitch, I got so many hundreds in my bag, can feed a village Nigga rub me the wrong way, we puttin' him in a skillet