What son what lyrics

Artist  : Funk master flex 
Song : What son what
 
feat. Capone-N-Noreaga

[Noreaga]
Lets keep it grimy!
Get with that shit
What y'all niggas get man?
What y'all gets Murder Unit (Murder Unit)
or Burn Unit (Burn Unit)
Get a real fucking life unit (real life fucking
unit)
A real unit; a motherfucking, C-N-N shit (C-N-N!)
My nigga Swift on the motherfucking fours (fours)
We thugged out y'all (what!)
Yo, yo - we thugged out y'all!

[Chorus: Capone-N-Noreaga]
[N] I say I don't really give a fuck
[C] Why do don't really give the fuck?
[N] Cause I don't really give a fuck
[C] So we don't really give the fuck
[N] You gon' roll with me?
[C] Hell yeah
[N] What Son What!? You gon' roll with me?
[C] Hell yeah
[N] What Son What!? You gon' roll with me?
[C] Hell yeah
[N] What Son What!? You gon' ride with me?
[C] Hell yeah
[N] What Son What!? You gon' die with me?
[C] Hell yeah
[N] What Son What!?

[Capone]
Right every bill I stack another war, story and
track
Settle down for money; hungry cats peddle the
crack
Summerslide but he the man but never make it
thats the granted further
What part you playing the game, who gonna slash
worker
Some'll pray to Jesus, I pray to Jes to free us
Don't look for bail (???) bail Criminal Court
When a judge holla 'Father you sure?'
Cats never sent a nigga to jail, they send him
bail
I been as real as I stealing free lunch
I got the greats from this old man give me (???) 
Made a move from a plan (??) (fuck a blue van)
My shoes bang, ficticious niggas, walk in the
path that I lead (I lead)
Do crime in New York, money and murder
Gentleman talk, ball like Atlanta Hawk
No respect, this on the stacks of the court
I started off in the street thing, (???)

[Chorus]

[Verse 2]
Ya niggas living a lie, spitting the same
Its no room, no B-I for y'all in the game
See me, I stay where it pop
Off the chain like my diss and it rocks
Moving the same is the stripping the spot
I'm hot, rock glizzery from the bottom to top
Grizzy, (???) didn't he spy on these hoes
To piss off the killer in me
Me and six will slick through it (through it)
Bronx river to the con do it
I see Don P. calm as me
Like (?) dead on your cheek
Like green to my eye, shit
Write it down sincere
Get to say my name in the air
Niggas pipe down, put they mic down
Niggas scared that we ain't even drop yet
 
Yet this year we show ya all who the hottest
The projects, I rep to my death (rep it nigga!)
X'ed out hoes, we regulate
We ain't sharing or filling 'boes
See how we go?

[Chorus]

[Noreaga]
Keep the Mac under the seat
To fast niggas ready to creep
And my niggas staying with heat
Like the hook go - What Son What!?
Like the shit go - What Son What!?
See me in the hood though
With a hood though, with a little puppet
And we doing no good though
Pussy sub, pussy sub, through the club
Niggas don't need no math
I rather, get head, I don't need no ass
Fuck all of y'all, y'all don't really rep for me
I mean you, and you ain't the set for me
I mean, given facility's; get high with your
enemy's
So niggas better stop playing
Before I need to air who want it, just start
spraying
Keep your block on lock, so now you go
Nigga, I sell bricks like my name Alpo

[Verse 4]
This is a woman what you hear us in clubs
Or freight some young Blood
No vest protect the shot for your mug
Snake niggas hear the move, every chance they get
Rap niggas I'ma dead one of their fans I get
Hustling niggas, I catch y'all Uptown
Soon as papi hit you, I'm right behind you
holding it down
Ya niggas, got it confused
Pop bottles and boo's
Might fit, make you come out of your jewels
A little more richer
Every sixteenth spit a little more sicker
Rap for Mase cause thats my nigga
I spit it for the streets
My bitches and freaks, lacking four to twenty g's
Thugging every week
Styling out, Violator I'm wilding out
M-U and Thugged Out, the world's talking about
We off the (?) dog, the entire know this song
Cause me and Mase bet fire, Thugged Out strong
Motherfucker..

[Chorus]

[Norega]
Huh?  Huh?
We say What Son What!?
Huh? What?
Yeah (stop playing) yeah (motherfucker) yeah
We say What Son What!?
Huh?  Huh?  Yeah, yeah
We say What Son What!?
Huh?  Huh?  Huh?  Yeah yeah
We say What Son What!?
Burn Unit, Burn Unit
My nigga Swift on the motherfucking four's
What what?

[Funkmaster Flex]
Yeah, Capone-N-Nore baby!
Thugged Out!  Shout to Martin Moore
Shout to my man Gina
Things is happening baby
Sixty Minutes of Funk Volume Four (ok)
Shout to Irv Gotti (ill sound, murder)