Under Attack lyrics

Artist  : Mc Eiht 
Song : Under Attack



 Send "Under Attack" Ringtone to your Cell 

 

featuring Boom Bam

Heeeyyy Uhh Half Ounce
in yo mouth
Check it out Half Ounce in the
house

Chrous: Bring the yellow tape nigga
FOSHO
Playa hatas infiltrate us niggas HELL
NO
Fools ready to die
Don't be
afraid
Bring your gun and your sac cuzz we
under attack

Verse 1:
Takes no
chances
End with up that least
circumstances
Keeps a cool composure
One
time's takin those glances
Who be's your enemy
on the evilest team,
Racketeerin all your
C.R.E.A.M.,
Havin your worst bad
dreams,
Pesos for all the amigos
and the
sistas,
How ya likin us now,
Competitas
gon' bow,
Ain't nothin' top dollar straight
corner to corner,
Keeps my hand in the pie
like little Jack Horner,
SOLDIERS on my left
right ready to die,
Infiltraters six feet
keeps our head to the sky,
Its a cold cruel
world tryin to watch my back,
Got these cold
ass thugs ready to ride and jack,
SHIIT!! For
the paper,
Street Dreams and all,
Best be
ready to hit the doo' when the one times
call,
Gots the picture its still for the money
son,
And if you're bailin' through Compton you
betta bring a gun,

Chrous:
2x

Verse2: Boom Bam
I deliever my blow
it could be fatal,
Get yo ass smashed like
potatoes and gravy,
Maybe with some prctice
you can fade me,
But I doubt it, Picked up the
Compton time
and read about it, How my crew
makes the front page
in a rage, In a live
concert blowin blunts on stage,
People
swingin' on a chasity and got the place
packed
to the maximum capacity, People comin
from far and near,
To get a glimpse of these
gang-bangers, playas and pimps, check it
out,
When we roll we rolls thick like some
nappy ass hair,
Straight chronic smoke up in
the air,
So get it straight nigga,
Boom-Bam
and Eiht nigga,(GEEYYAA),
Peeped yo' game from
the start nigga,
We know you fake nigga,
We
gots to keep a close eye fools under our
backs,
Lock the gates sound the guns cuzz we
under attack.

Chrous:2x

Verse3: Mc
Eiht
Betta' watch out for the murder I wrote,
Black super spokes
black stars and a black
leather coat, On a mission,
Dead presidents I
gots to stackin, Enemies can't see the
ya-ya
in my jacket, Best raise up before I set
it off on G.P.,
First rule if you tryin' to
bring harm to me,
Felony case catcher to the
first degree,
Like the ginger bread man yall
can't catch me,
On the run stilla nigga held
no jail cells,
Keeps two steps ahead, No
traces for feds,
Phone taps instead, On the
celluar phone,
Dumb as fuck cuzz they don't
know the number was called,
Outta the country,
D.A. on the payroll yall,
Me and a little
senortia on my side the black heater,
Sweeter
than the rest, Paid pounds at gate
sippin,
While shippin to the
U.S.A.,

Chrous:3x