Yall Know We in Here Lyrics
| Song | Yall Know We in Here |
| Artist | Styles P |
| Album | A Gangster and a Gentleman |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Fields, Styles. D | |
| f/ P.K.iller, Swizz Beatz | |
| P.K.iller! | |
| (Verse 1) | |
| Y'all gon die, so who gon cry for us | |
| hop in they whip and ride for us | |
| pop niggas in the skull in they frame, shit | |
| it's a body for a body for the love of the game | |
| But niggas'll call the precinct with your government name | |
| but I'm still loadin my guns, gettin it on | |
| and if a nigga bury my man, I bury his mom | |
| I was trained to dump in your face, jump over the gate | |
| hop in the hoop', grab a bird, get outta the state | |
| stay in the dirt, dog we like pieces of shit | |
| dealin coke like cars, come lease you a brick | |
| Holiday bitch, I show you what a 38 special do | |
| Turn niggas vegetable, salad ass niggas | |
| Never send a coward around violent ass niggas | |
| I'ma always bust my gun, use my knife | |
| ride or die, til the day I lose my life | |
| (HOOK 2X: Swizz and P.K.iller) | |
| Y'all know we in here! (YO!) Tell me who's in here! (YO!) | |
| Y'all know we in here! (YO!) Tell me who's in here! (YO!) | |
| You dealin with the streets, (YO!) you dealin with the thugs! (YO!) | |
| You dealin with the set, (YO!) so y'all throw it up! | |
| (Verse 2) | |
| It don't matter who you are, or what you say | |
| aint no rapper you name fuckin wit Styles | |
| and I'll probably die young, shot in the war | |
| but I aint never give a fuck, and I always was wild | |
| and I'd rather have a open case, than an open face | |
| kill every witness, I aint goin to trial | |
| and everybody's a gangsta, nobody's pussy | |
| there's alotta niggas lying and I know who you are | |
| Next time I go to jail, I aint gettin the bail | |
| I'ma kill a hundred niggas, right in front of niggas | |
| When cops come through, they gettin it too | |
| Goin out wit a bang, 'bout to start up a gang | |
| cocksucker, it's the Holiday crew | |
| get money, kill niggas, do robberies too | |
| cuz you fuckin wit the grimiest, sheistiest | |
| can't wait to die dog, life's a bitch | |
| (HOOK 2X) | |
| (Verse 3) | |
| I'ma die screamin, fuck you, meet me in hell | |
| cuz I still got beef on my chest, and it gets no deeper | |
| look at the ink on my arm, I tattooed the reaper of death | |
| and they call me Holiday, I let a slug go in your shirt | |
| and wait for the leak in your chest | |
| I'll probably black out, think about my welfare days | |
| and times I had to sleep on the steps | |
| Niggas don't want it wit me, you could call me arrogant dog | |
| until you get stabbed in the jaw | |
| P'll run up in the hospital, stab you some more | |
| don't you fuck wit no nigga that be plannin for war | |
| I got slugs that go through you, put your man on the floor | |
| purplest Porsche, mahogany seats, body your peeps | |
| project was pussy and the lobby was sweet | |
| niggas had alotta mouth, but they body was weak | |
| (HOOK 2X) |
| zuo qu : Fields, Styles. D | |
| f P. K. iller, Swizz Beatz | |
| P. K. iller! | |
| Verse 1 | |
| Y' all gon die, so who gon cry for us | |
| hop in they whip and ride for us | |
| pop niggas in the skull in they frame, shit | |
| it' s a body for a body for the love of the game | |
| But niggas' ll call the precinct with your government name | |
| but I' m still loadin my guns, gettin it on | |
| and if a nigga bury my man, I bury his mom | |
| I was trained to dump in your face, jump over the gate | |
| hop in the hoop', grab a bird, get outta the state | |
| stay in the dirt, dog we like pieces of shit | |
| dealin coke like cars, come lease you a brick | |
| Holiday bitch, I show you what a 38 special do | |
| Turn niggas vegetable, salad ass niggas | |
| Never send a coward around violent ass niggas | |
| I' ma always bust my gun, use my knife | |
| ride or die, til the day I lose my life | |
| HOOK 2X: Swizz and P. K. iller | |
| Y' all know we in here! YO! Tell me who' s in here! YO! | |
| Y' all know we in here! YO! Tell me who' s in here! YO! | |
| You dealin with the streets, YO! you dealin with the thugs! YO! | |
| You dealin with the set, YO! so y' all throw it up! | |
| Verse 2 | |
| It don' t matter who you are, or what you say | |
| aint no rapper you name fuckin wit Styles | |
| and I' ll probably die young, shot in the war | |
| but I aint never give a fuck, and I always was wild | |
| and I' d rather have a open case, than an open face | |
| kill every witness, I aint goin to trial | |
| and everybody' s a gangsta, nobody' s pussy | |
| there' s alotta niggas lying and I know who you are | |
| Next time I go to jail, I aint gettin the bail | |
| I' ma kill a hundred niggas, right in front of niggas | |
| When cops come through, they gettin it too | |
| Goin out wit a bang, ' bout to start up a gang | |
| cocksucker, it' s the Holiday crew | |
| get money, kill niggas, do robberies too | |
| cuz you fuckin wit the grimiest, sheistiest | |
| can' t wait to die dog, life' s a bitch | |
| HOOK 2X | |
| Verse 3 | |
| I' ma die screamin, fuck you, meet me in hell | |
| cuz I still got beef on my chest, and it gets no deeper | |
| look at the ink on my arm, I tattooed the reaper of death | |
| and they call me Holiday, I let a slug go in your shirt | |
| and wait for the leak in your chest | |
| I' ll probably black out, think about my welfare days | |
| and times I had to sleep on the steps | |
| Niggas don' t want it wit me, you could call me arrogant dog | |
| until you get stabbed in the jaw | |
| P' ll run up in the hospital, stab you some more | |
| don' t you fuck wit no nigga that be plannin for war | |
| I got slugs that go through you, put your man on the floor | |
| purplest Porsche, mahogany seats, body your peeps | |
| project was pussy and the lobby was sweet | |
| niggas had alotta mouth, but they body was weak | |
| HOOK 2X |
| zuò qǔ : Fields, Styles. D | |
| f P. K. iller, Swizz Beatz | |
| P. K. iller! | |
| Verse 1 | |
| Y' all gon die, so who gon cry for us | |
| hop in they whip and ride for us | |
| pop niggas in the skull in they frame, shit | |
| it' s a body for a body for the love of the game | |
| But niggas' ll call the precinct with your government name | |
| but I' m still loadin my guns, gettin it on | |
| and if a nigga bury my man, I bury his mom | |
| I was trained to dump in your face, jump over the gate | |
| hop in the hoop', grab a bird, get outta the state | |
| stay in the dirt, dog we like pieces of shit | |
| dealin coke like cars, come lease you a brick | |
| Holiday bitch, I show you what a 38 special do | |
| Turn niggas vegetable, salad ass niggas | |
| Never send a coward around violent ass niggas | |
| I' ma always bust my gun, use my knife | |
| ride or die, til the day I lose my life | |
| HOOK 2X: Swizz and P. K. iller | |
| Y' all know we in here! YO! Tell me who' s in here! YO! | |
| Y' all know we in here! YO! Tell me who' s in here! YO! | |
| You dealin with the streets, YO! you dealin with the thugs! YO! | |
| You dealin with the set, YO! so y' all throw it up! | |
| Verse 2 | |
| It don' t matter who you are, or what you say | |
| aint no rapper you name fuckin wit Styles | |
| and I' ll probably die young, shot in the war | |
| but I aint never give a fuck, and I always was wild | |
| and I' d rather have a open case, than an open face | |
| kill every witness, I aint goin to trial | |
| and everybody' s a gangsta, nobody' s pussy | |
| there' s alotta niggas lying and I know who you are | |
| Next time I go to jail, I aint gettin the bail | |
| I' ma kill a hundred niggas, right in front of niggas | |
| When cops come through, they gettin it too | |
| Goin out wit a bang, ' bout to start up a gang | |
| cocksucker, it' s the Holiday crew | |
| get money, kill niggas, do robberies too | |
| cuz you fuckin wit the grimiest, sheistiest | |
| can' t wait to die dog, life' s a bitch | |
| HOOK 2X | |
| Verse 3 | |
| I' ma die screamin, fuck you, meet me in hell | |
| cuz I still got beef on my chest, and it gets no deeper | |
| look at the ink on my arm, I tattooed the reaper of death | |
| and they call me Holiday, I let a slug go in your shirt | |
| and wait for the leak in your chest | |
| I' ll probably black out, think about my welfare days | |
| and times I had to sleep on the steps | |
| Niggas don' t want it wit me, you could call me arrogant dog | |
| until you get stabbed in the jaw | |
| P' ll run up in the hospital, stab you some more | |
| don' t you fuck wit no nigga that be plannin for war | |
| I got slugs that go through you, put your man on the floor | |
| purplest Porsche, mahogany seats, body your peeps | |
| project was pussy and the lobby was sweet | |
| niggas had alotta mouth, but they body was weak | |
| HOOK 2X |
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