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Just Do It Lyrics

from World Party

"Just Do It" is track #6 on the album World Party. It was written by Thomas Callaway;cameron Gipp;rondal Rucker;robert Terrance Barnett;edward Knighton.
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"Just Do It" is track #6 on the album World Party. It was written by Thomas Callaway;cameron Gipp;rondal Rucker;robert Terrance Barnett;edward Knighton.
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Well, I'm just gonna tell you
We ain't 'bout that talking homeboy, we'll do it
And all that acting you doing, we see through it
Fuck hollering and screaming let's get to it, let's get to it

Now I say my rap reflect the enemy
Passion and positive energy
Y'all talk about killing, it don't surprise me
Tripping 'bout a nigga, don't judge me wisely

But I ain't 'bout to holler or scream at you
You can look in my eyes and tell what I'd do
I'm a charge at niggas and you know I'm true
But goddammit, fuck nigga this one for you

I know how it go, I done been out there before
Heard it's goddamn time to blow
Stomping niggas down till they don't want no more
Trying to get some Polo's straight out the store

Some gone, some just can't let it go
I might laugh and joke but I'll let a nigga know
I'm the same motherfucker from 84
And I still do it in the aftershow

And I don't like to feel like I'm being tried
I ain't bullet-proof, plenty nigga done died
But I damn sho' ain't finna go and hide
I got one on me and I'm down to ride

I ain't trying to say I got all the game
I got fame but a million I can't claim
So respect me playa and I'll do the same
But neither one is guaranteed to have the best aim

Well, I'm just gonna tell you
We ain't 'bout that talking homeboy, we'll do it
And all that acting you doing, we see through it
Fuck hollering and screaming let's get to it, let's get to it

The revolution has begun
Handle your business playa
Devoted to the game and dope
Cut-throat ways will get you paid in full
Pull a rabbit out the hat trick, magical quick

Slick it's like a porn flick
Umm, imagine having money so big
It makes you look like a pig
Get your big behind

You remind me of swine with your fat nose
Stuck in your pose and thread bed that shawty
Lame with your game, put it all on the table
Got your label and your fast cars
And your bodyguard looking hard

Throwing your cheese, for them rats its snacks
I'm like a egg bout' to hatch, Tony, horny, I'm macaroni
Commercialize suckers looking like busters
I'd ride for the kings and queens of my motherfucking team

Spark in the night, umm, we 'bout to fight
Haters, come and say that shit
Dammit these fools gonna have to take us together
How the fuck, ever you want it, get to it, Swats

Well, I'm just gonna tell you
We ain't 'bout that talking homeboy, we'll do it
And all that acting you doing, we see through it
Fuck hollering and screaming let's get to it, let's get to it

The streets making you feel like a real G
But we Georgia finest, our Fulton County fleet
You still putting thangs up in your mouth
'Cause you been pacifired, since you was knee-high

All your life in school, that's the reason
Why you couldn't learn nothing?
Runt, at the tender age of 18
Books no longer hold your attention span
Short term but you can sho' enough count that green

Something you just can't coach
Don't sing it, bring it
I usually caught me at least one fool a game
You can only phanthom pain, I don't have to

But don't let me get on a case of this drank
Leak to my heart, elevate to my brain
Make you wanna walk that plank
You'd better swim motherfucker
'Cause bullshit don't float, you are what you eat

See you remind of this goat
That I had by the hairs of his chinny-chin-chin
Curbing over some yellow rice, you can't do shit
Might as well hit the graveyard shift

Somewhere at McDonalds or Burger King
Grab a taste or spill, over some hairs, nobody cares
And we do assholes that grip leather chairs

Well, I'm just gonna tell you
We ain't 'bout that talking homeboy, we'll do it
And all that acting you doing, we see through it
Fuck hollering and screaming let's get to it, let's get to it

I used to hang out, smoke out, fuck out, bang out
Run your mouth wrong, got your front tooth took out
On the spot bodies with no heads, no legs, no feet
Left em' out in the open scoping that ass out for weeks

Never speaking, busting, breaking brains
Berettas brought the rain back and forth
Trigger action, snatch it up, load it up
Hit the door, gotta call, yo' he at the mall

Fuck it all, hit 'em one, two, three times
I was scared the first shot
But liked the second and third
Left him hollering and screaming

Dreaming for another chance to live
Had it up yesterday but today its mine
Bust your ass one more time
For the niggas on the grind, so go and hide

Well, I'm just gonna tell you
We ain't 'bout that talking homeboy, we'll do it
And all that acting you doing, we see through it
Fuck hollering and screaming let's get to it, let's get to it

Songwriters
Thomas Callaway;Cameron Gipp;Rondal Rucker;Robert Terrance Barnett;Edward Knighton

Published by
T MO 2 MUSIC;MUTANT MINDFRAME MUSIC;BROWN BRANCHES AND GREEN BOTTLES

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