"Situation On Dirty" lyrics
(from "I'm Bout It" soundtrack)
V-Town in the motherfucker, situation dirty and shit
Killa, yeah
Today's out to be recognized
I got that nigga for about 4 zones (Why's that?), had to get dirty though (What happened?)
Left him in his driveway soakin' wet, sold the 6-4 (Why?)
Couldn't keep it no mo', that motherfucker was filthy
More dead bodies done been in that trunk
Than the cemetery and the mortuary
Had a bullet hole by the gas tank, put 1500 in the bank
Jugged the bitch for 18 but spent 300 lashes on some dank
Shot to my brother's house and got them niggas high
It was the Mann Klan, 3 Deep, and that nigga Sicx
We was off that chocolate Thai
And all this time that 1-8-7 was on my mind
Shot the man in cold blood and knew his mama saw the drive-by (Damn!)
Design, and there ain't no TV until you see me
On America's Most Wanted fucked up gettin' snatched out my teepee
Nigga we in the back of the '69 Cut', and it's so foggy
Paranoia done got me on my strap and I'm a fiend for raw meat
They say all niggas talk about is murderin' and gettin' high
But situation get real filthy and I got to have mine
With me, it's like American Express
I don't leave home without my Smith & Wess and bulletproof vest
I done dug myself a hole, now I'm trying to climb back out
Done fucked with the wrong homies, I wish my little brother was out
With me, it's like American Express
I don't leave home without my Smith & Wess and bulletproof vest
I done dug myself a hole, now I'm trying to climb back out
Done fucked with the wrong homies, I wish my little brother was out
Now it started back in Southside Sac, I was with my mama
Drinkin' inches off the Olde E, hittin' chronic ever so often
Off in another world trippin' while he was in another room stickin'
Mind clickin' thinkin' sick, I got that 12 gauge pump, started trippin'
Kicked the door open, bloodstains, cops came
Quiet I had to remain, maintain, same thang
My love don't fit you, I got that US military issue
Had to plant one in your brain and get away
If I'm caught, plead insane
A couple of down-ass top notches I used to know
Had a spot, I was good for 4 days off yack and chronic
And makin' a plot, 'cause murder was the case, when I saw his face (What happened?)
Took his life, left his brains all over the pillow case
What would you be thinking of if your mama was yelling STOP!
My first thought, was cut him in half and drag the other half to his staff
They say all niggas talk about is murderin' and gettin' high
But situations get real filthy and I got to have mine
With me, it's like American Express
I don't leave home without my Smith & Wesson bulletproof vest
I done dug myself a hole, now I'm trying to climb back out
Done fucked with the wrong homies, I wish my little brother was out
With me, it's like American Express
I don't leave home without my Smith & Wess and bulletproof vest
I done dug myself a hole, now I'm trying to climb back out
Done fucked with the wrong homies, I wish my little brother was out
Killa, yeah
Today's out to be recognized
I got that nigga for about 4 zones (Why's that?), had to get dirty though (What happened?)
Left him in his driveway soakin' wet, sold the 6-4 (Why?)
Couldn't keep it no mo', that motherfucker was filthy
More dead bodies done been in that trunk
Than the cemetery and the mortuary
Had a bullet hole by the gas tank, put 1500 in the bank
Jugged the bitch for 18 but spent 300 lashes on some dank
Shot to my brother's house and got them niggas high
It was the Mann Klan, 3 Deep, and that nigga Sicx
We was off that chocolate Thai
And all this time that 1-8-7 was on my mind
Shot the man in cold blood and knew his mama saw the drive-by (Damn!)
Design, and there ain't no TV until you see me
On America's Most Wanted fucked up gettin' snatched out my teepee
Nigga we in the back of the '69 Cut', and it's so foggy
Paranoia done got me on my strap and I'm a fiend for raw meat
They say all niggas talk about is murderin' and gettin' high
But situation get real filthy and I got to have mine
With me, it's like American Express
I don't leave home without my Smith & Wess and bulletproof vest
I done dug myself a hole, now I'm trying to climb back out
Done fucked with the wrong homies, I wish my little brother was out
With me, it's like American Express
I don't leave home without my Smith & Wess and bulletproof vest
I done dug myself a hole, now I'm trying to climb back out
Done fucked with the wrong homies, I wish my little brother was out
Now it started back in Southside Sac, I was with my mama
Drinkin' inches off the Olde E, hittin' chronic ever so often
Off in another world trippin' while he was in another room stickin'
Mind clickin' thinkin' sick, I got that 12 gauge pump, started trippin'
Kicked the door open, bloodstains, cops came
Quiet I had to remain, maintain, same thang
My love don't fit you, I got that US military issue
Had to plant one in your brain and get away
If I'm caught, plead insane
A couple of down-ass top notches I used to know
Had a spot, I was good for 4 days off yack and chronic
And makin' a plot, 'cause murder was the case, when I saw his face (What happened?)
Took his life, left his brains all over the pillow case
What would you be thinking of if your mama was yelling STOP!
My first thought, was cut him in half and drag the other half to his staff
They say all niggas talk about is murderin' and gettin' high
But situations get real filthy and I got to have mine
With me, it's like American Express
I don't leave home without my Smith & Wesson bulletproof vest
I done dug myself a hole, now I'm trying to climb back out
Done fucked with the wrong homies, I wish my little brother was out
With me, it's like American Express
I don't leave home without my Smith & Wess and bulletproof vest
I done dug myself a hole, now I'm trying to climb back out
Done fucked with the wrong homies, I wish my little brother was out
Writer(s): Unknown Writer, Kevin Mann
