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Don't Fuck With Us Lyrics

from You Can't See Me

"Don't Fuck With Us" is track #4 on the album You Can't See Me. It was written by Marc Joseph Predka, John Cena.
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"Don't Fuck With Us" is track #4 on the album You Can't See Me. It was written by Marc Joseph Predka, John Cena.
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We keep it hoppin' like the cars with the shocks
We spittin' heat on your block
We new to the game, but runnin' the spot
Numbin' your knot with baselines that'll make ya neck break

This rook'll take your queen and put ya king in checkmate
Open your mind without makin' ya meditate
We real champs, y'all just featherweight
Time to get it straight, I push your wig back
Crew loaded up with extra bread like a Big Mac

Beefin' with us? We're leavin' you face down
Stompin' bitch rappers like I'm straight outta A-Town
Runnin' the playground like it was a track meet
Shoes on the whip that be bigger than Shaq's feet

We into big things, bank account's overgrown
All types of cheese, swiss, cheddar, provolone
Guaranteed to burn wax like candles
Track hittin' hard to the head like shots of Jack Daniels

Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust
Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust

It's Trademark the truth, laid back, aloof
I'm God, as if you needed some proof
You ain't hard I can see it on you, I need a roof
Fuck a droptop, crop if I'm creepin' on you

Click-clack nickel back knickknacks if you got heaters on you
Spittin' back live rounders, with five pounders
If we meetin' on two, I put a beatin' on you
Your sound's tired buddy, that's why I'm sleepin' on you

We lean back in the ride, with cream stackin' the rawhide
The sound of God slide with a raw vibe
Straight military camel clothes ash brown boots
So sick, I've been handlin' flows

Since enamel was gold tooth and branded by low
You cold fuck like Eskimo hoes at 7 below
You slow, you be the last to think
My hands seen more fuckin' dirt than bathroom sinks

Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust
Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust

I got punks, dumps and switches, dump chumpses bitches
We feed you to the sharks, you can sleep with the fishes
Clean you like dishes but I ain't no busboy
You ain't family, you ain't earnin' my trust boy

Seen too many bitches that'll double cross ya
We bring more drama than the Laker roster
Get the click pissed, ain't nobody can save ya
Throw heat without lookin' like Fernando Valenzuela

Marc Predka's the name, the rest of you lame
I'm ego drivin', seen with different women, every size and frame
I refine my game by fuckin' famous bitches
But it's all the same, it's just ex to the next

For sex or brain, misses or Mrs
Married or not, my game don't stop
It's cars bars bonds and stocks you ain't see my flow
Y'all are small-time suckers like a knee-high hoe

Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust
Y'all, bitch crews, don't wanna fuck with us
Y'all bound to lose, another one bites the dust

Songwriters
MARC JOSEPH PREDKA, JOHN CENA

Published by
Lyrics © BMG SAPHIRE SONGS OBO "STEPHANIE MUSIC, INC." , BMG RUBY SONGS OBO SCREECH MUSIC

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