4th Disciple - F*ck-U Lyrics

f/ Born Justice, ShoGun Assason



[4th Disciple]

Yo, yo

Can't get no love

No love, no love

Gotta see us Blood For Blood out here

No love, no love

The war's on, no love

Ya heard? Can't get this shit no more



Extra, extra, read the news, young clowns is Hell-bound

From the universal sound, surround, comin down in yo' town

Musical compounds, brothas can't wait 'til the sounds is laid down

To express the mentals, be adjectives and nouns

Be bless for the know-how, to master and manifest ya own style

As we penetrate the scene, and run yo' projects on ya iced guillotine

You wanna know what the scheme is? Check out how we blend it

Load up the A-tone, then append it, 1 gigabyte is recommended

To extinguish the thought of you ever makin more wack sequences

Alas, that weak shit is finished, a total diminish

All wack MC's, producer wannabes and bitches sellin pussy on CD's

The future prophecy is to bring back originality

Within ya musical chemistry, wack ass niggaz



[Born Justice]

Yo, f*ck y'all bitch niggaz

All y'all fake bitch-ass niggaz that roam in the streets

Fight the heat, I be ya seat

cuz blood drops hit the concrete when niggaz meet

and words be the bullets on some heat-seekin hit

cuz nowadays when blood drips

It's carved by the birds that f*ck the same dick

All the niggaz that could f*ck the same bitch

Coked out and shit, sodium, f*ck the whole click

Run through ya town, shit sound make ya sick

Modern world, while foreigners deserve what you get

The ward'll penalize, that's injustice

Whores wanna serve, do the knowledge, sit and observe

Venomous the darts by the clicks be the words



[ShoGun Assason]

You bitch-ass niggaz, dare contest

Come against the Gods and try to manifest

You bitch-ass niggaz

Dare to contest, come against the Gods and claim rest

What? What? Yo, check it



Yo, yo, yo, yo, you can't hold ya own shit down

So, how the f*ck you gon' take my crown, clown?

You ain't really ready to rumble with the Gods

F*ck around and get scarred

With ya hands high, prepare to fight for ya life

We could box or throw rocks, save ya tough talk

I'm a southpaw and my style is unorthodox

I leave you coward niggaz tremblin

Bend then I stomp a mud hole in ya ass with my Timbalands

You f*ckin pansies, got more sugar in ya blood than candies

With ya sober suit-suits and ya cute matchin groups

Dancin around like prostitutes, fatality

I be ya nigga from the South, bitch

What? F*ck-U



[Outro: All]

F*ck-U, U and U

Cuz y'all niggaz ain't shit

F*ck-U, U and U

cuz y'all niggaz ain't shit

F*ck-U, U and U

Get off my dick

And ya whole f*ckin crew

What? F*ck-U, nigga!

Yo, you ain't shit and ya whole f*ckin click

And ya mothaf*ckin bitches

F*ck all y'all!

F*ck-U and U and U

F*ck-U, U, U and U

F*ck-U too, and ya whole f*ckin crew

F*ck-U too

Cuz we shittin on U

Shittin on niggaz

We be the best MC's

What? *echoes*