Scarface - Dyin Wit'cha Boots On Lyrics
Trouble seems to catch a mother*****er with his cards downGotta keep my drawers up, shits gettin hard nowThese mother*****in cops be plantin shit on these niggasSimply because these niggas got bank accounts thats biggerI just cant get no peace from you mother*****in rollersEverytime I pull my benz or what, cha pull me overIm sick of mother*****ers who be checking whiteys coke tipBlacker than a mother*****er, sweat me bout my *? dope-sip*?Niggas just take your cut and get your ass up out my faceThe only thing you probably get from me is a *****-sucking pistol caseUnless you plan on plantin a lil somethin in my shitJust because you aint got shit, *****!Give em a badge and a trigger and that makes em figureThat they can ***** with a million dollar niggaThey got you mixed up, fixed up at the segas, shookin indoGettin *****ed up in the gank-holeThe only way youll whip that mother*****er is when you whip thatMother*****erAnd we choke the mother*****er (me stuck the mother*****er!)So when you hear my song and wanna get it onYou better come prepared mother*****er, you dyin witcha boots onChorus:(put ya foot in my shit and let me try on your hood)Dyin witcha boots on(put ya foot in my shit and let me try on your hood)YeahInterlude:(prison guard talking to inmate)Guard: do you know how many years youre facing inside?25 to life and thats on the realSo you better snitch on your partnerInmate: ***** that! it was brad dawg, I aint goin out by myselfNiggas gettin caught, doin time, so they snitchinThey pickin niggas up on a funky ass suspicionWell be goin down for some questioning we thinkAnd end up gettin hit with the *****in kitchen sinkRacketeer and laundering, kingpin wonderingIf they got some unsolved murders, then give him some of themJust because were niggas and they figure were no smarterWe sell each other albums, start frattin on our partnersThey start bringin up shit that happened back in 85And then comes the largest jury, *****, they *****in time!You might as well play the stateCos you come to day for dayAnd sellin out your homeboys aint the shitCos yall gonna have to die in this *****, *****!Lobbin witcha white suits onAnd dyin witcha mother*****in boots on(put ya foot in my shit and let me try on your hood)
