"War Time" lyrics
(Wait hol' up, This ABeats)
(Ain't that DJ Chose over there? Look like DJ Chose)
Come with that motherfuckin' bag, we gon' get you together
I'ma tell you
On my mama and yours
Ayy Dolo, we shootin' outside
First grade I told myself I never liked to play
Woke up grabbed the stick like who gon' die today
When it come to murder I don't hesitate
I was in that bottom just the other day
Niggas rap about kills, I know real deal bring out that yellow tape
Put his feet up in the air that's what Osama say
Dissin' on the net I'm trying to see how many your rental take
Everytime they come around we treat it like a holiday
Aiming for his head took off his ear he ain't listen anyway
If I pop out in your section with my weapon ain't no checkin' in
All the killers give me my respect they know I get it in
Ain't lovin on his bitch I need her mouth, I tell her get it right
Clutchin' on my stick all up in class you can ask funny mike
Ain't gotta rap on bodies, bitch I got em if you know you know
Pull up serving niggas door to door we just like dominos
And I know what to do when pussy niggas want to do the most
Treat them just like strippers, drop a bag they shaking by they toes
Might spend a 10, if I want em bad I probably spend dub
Trollin on the gram to get some fame, that nigga died for a buzz
Last time we heard him speak he said he come and wipe her nose
They ain't even cry about that nigga since his funeral
What that switch do, pick yo brotha up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo partna up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo dawg up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo daddy up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo cousin up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo partna up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo dawg up he a tissue
Written by:
DJ Chose, Fredrick Givens
What you mean, Gucci slippers in here?
Only nigga in the penitentiary with the red Gucci slides, man, that ain't Blood shit, man
Wait hold up, man, that's Gucci's, man
Come, come with that motherfuckin' bag, we gon' get you together
I'ma tell you
On my mama and yours
From now on, I got hella investments
Let's go, let's go, let's go
War time
(Ain't that DJ Chose over there? Look like DJ Chose)
Come with that motherfuckin' bag, we gon' get you together
I'ma tell you
On my mama and yours
Ayy Dolo, we shootin' outside
First grade I told myself I never liked to play
Woke up grabbed the stick like who gon' die today
When it come to murder I don't hesitate
I was in that bottom just the other day
Niggas rap about kills, I know real deal bring out that yellow tape
Put his feet up in the air that's what Osama say
Dissin' on the net I'm trying to see how many your rental take
Everytime they come around we treat it like a holiday
Aiming for his head took off his ear he ain't listen anyway
If I pop out in your section with my weapon ain't no checkin' in
All the killers give me my respect they know I get it in
Ain't lovin on his bitch I need her mouth, I tell her get it right
Clutchin' on my stick all up in class you can ask funny mike
Ain't gotta rap on bodies, bitch I got em if you know you know
Pull up serving niggas door to door we just like dominos
And I know what to do when pussy niggas want to do the most
Treat them just like strippers, drop a bag they shaking by they toes
Might spend a 10, if I want em bad I probably spend dub
Trollin on the gram to get some fame, that nigga died for a buzz
Last time we heard him speak he said he come and wipe her nose
They ain't even cry about that nigga since his funeral
What that switch do, pick yo brotha up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo partna up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo dawg up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo daddy up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo cousin up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo partna up he a tissue
What that switch do, pick yo dawg up he a tissue
Written by:
DJ Chose, Fredrick Givens
What you mean, Gucci slippers in here?
Only nigga in the penitentiary with the red Gucci slides, man, that ain't Blood shit, man
Wait hold up, man, that's Gucci's, man
Come, come with that motherfuckin' bag, we gon' get you together
I'ma tell you
On my mama and yours
From now on, I got hella investments
Let's go, let's go, let's go
War time
Writer(s): Norman Payne, Fredrick Ii Givens, Jackie Plant, Aaron Blosser
