Testin' My Gangsta

[DJ Paul Talking] Yeah, fuck, that's just how it is It just had to go there, and that's how it's gonna go down Really wanna go Get these motherfuckin' mags and clips .50 cal, y'all don't know none about this shit These motherfuckers are full of automatics Mane, gimmie that motherfuckin' nine We got these motherfuckin' Glocks, these motherfuckin' SKS, AKs But it's goin' down, you know what it is [Verse 1: DJ Paul] I come from a city where they love to hate, especially on that Triple Six They see we really got Bentleys and Benzes, and they hate the shit They try to come up over us, the radio even help 'em at it But y'all ain't got no flows, so hang it up, you silly rabbits I'ma keep on hurting you boys, by making this motherfuckin' world rock Side to fuckin' side, it’s been twenty years, and man, we still ain’t stop Still ridin' clean, makin' cheese, and carrying plastic Glocks And please don't try to test us cuz you know we'll let these bitches pop On you hoes, you haters, you niggas really like us Cuz if you faggots didn't, then you wouldn't try to sound so much like us I'm the K-I-N-G of that M-E-M-P-H-I-S H-C-P, to the E-N-D, others gone be less Come prepared, man, I swear they wanna be down with my team Don't let the shit talkin' on them CD's fool you That ain't what they really mean The truth can hurt so bad, so look in they faces when you play us And watch how they look, and watch they jaw drop to the pavement, nigga [Chorus: DJ Paul] Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now) These bitches test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now) Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now) These bitches test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now) [Verse 2: Lord Infamous] Nigga don't you know that Lord can make your life a living hell And I mean that literally, the place where demon spirits dwell Empty all the buckshot shells, make your fuckin' body smell I can fuck you up somewhere, to where you were they cannot tell Fuck me with me, you fucking with the best, and you also fuckin' with the wrong one I will hit you with the milli-milli gun, got a millimeter gun blow out ya lungs Like them old Italians, Mafia gangsta son When you see me coming, better run for fucking cover BLAY! AK, SK, .44, Tre-8 This body kinda heavy, D.O.A., dead weight Bitch, you better take notes, 'fo you end up cut-throat And ya on the ground bro', with your fuckin' shirt soaked Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, blow a nigga out his clothes Come out the trench coat with a sawed-off, and lay me down a ho So if you think Scarecrow ain't a gangsta, come and test the water You will be the slaughtered, the dearly departed [Chorus: DJ Paul] Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now) These bitches test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now) Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now) These bitches test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now) [Verse 3: Crunchy Black] Why you niggas wanna test my gangsta? Don't make a nigga run up and shank ya Or put some cement in yo shit and sank ya Or make you shoot yourself and then I'm thankin' ya Throw tile over round your throat and drag ya cuz Get nothing from me, but gangsta love No testin' me, my nigga, have you lying in blood Or dig you a grave, cut ya bitch ass up [Verse 4: Juicy-J] ({Yeah Ho!} repeated threw the verse) You niggas be trying to test, I ain't no slouch I squeeze my fuckin' fist, my nig', I break the law I call out a hit, my nig', I make the fall The handle with the bloody trig', is all they saw 'Fo yo ugly face was down, on the ground A barrel pointed at your frown, with hollow rounds I bet ya wanna run and shit, it's too late now You shouldn't have been runnin' ya lip, to make me clown Bitch! [Chorus: DJ Paul] Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now) These bitches test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now) Why y'all test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now) These bitches test my gangsta, these bitches test my gangsta ('Cause it's on now) (Nigga yeah, it's on now)