Let You Havit

Yeah Now this is for the g's who know we needs that gangsta shit It's like the p-funk we funk so it's gotsta hit And when you fire up that hooter pa*s it to the young g The nigga mista quik, that's me from the c-to-the-p-to-the-t And when I'm givin it up for my hood you can't clown Cause when we lettin off you gots to duck down And then we're rollin back to the spot where they hang (Westside fo'hundred street gang) so it's a street thang Makin that grip and stackin the chips high Ballin never fallin I gots to stay fly Whether they smokin up them beadies or rollin the joints fat I gotta kick it with my niggaz cause it's like that And you need to know I ain't for none, because I'm dumpin The hollow point rounds that got everybody humpin But niggaz they keep on mouthin, kickin up the static But keep on talkin shit *machine gun* and I'ma let you havit Yeah yeah Huh, I'ma let you havit Yeah Check this Somebody told me that you dissed me (bitch) in your video But I ain't trippin cause I'm knowin you ain't nothin but a silly hoe And yeah I said your monkey a*s name in my underground tape But if you peeped game you woulda heard me say ("To the top of the tree, for c-m-w see") We wasn't dissin lettin you know the other side was on a mission Comin up with the Quik-ness, now you know who's d**k this is Down in the throats of the Compton's most bitches So take this shit back to your set if you got one And I'ma be puttin the double oh bugs in my shotgun And if you come back f**kin around I'ma take your life Why would you come back to a gunfight, with a f**kin knife? So there it is MC Eiht, cause you're wack And mista Quik can beat the niggaz down with another sack So keep on rollin in your Camry or your rabbit but If I catch you slippin in my hood, gotta let you havit Ahh yeah Gotta let you havit Huh, I'ma let you havit