Go 4 Yourz Lyrics
| Song | Go 4 Yourz |
| Artist | Ultramagnetic MC's |
| Album | Funk Your Head Up |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| Yes indeed one time | |
| This is for all you stupid niggaz out there | |
| Talkin that dumb doo doo weak shit | |
| We comin live and direct | |
| Straight in your motherfuckin face with some pure raw shit | |
| And we gon' get busy, like this | |
| It's been a while, since i seen a good street fight | |
| A good fight, throwin fist to fist | |
| Blow for blow, toe for toe, yeah | |
| Put your gun down, and give a brother a fair fight | |
| Smitty with a left jab, no ak | |
| Automatic pistol, put it the hell away | |
| Bring out a baseball bat for your black ass | |
| Cincinatti, beatin down on oakland | |
| But i'll be the referee, while nose get broken | |
| And basket broken, and brains get beat down | |
| Bronx style, buckwild, nobody should jump in | |
| Just stand the hell way back, before you get slapped back | |
| No posse to run back, the gangsta hard talk | |
| Braggin on the mic, you shootin cops | |
| But when you in a cell, shootin stops | |
| Look at the murderers, third degree psychos | |
| Waitin to get hanged, and next on death row | |
| Behind the steel bars, you're froze and can't throw | |
| But back on the streets with a tool you are still hard | |
| Callin yourself god, and hangin with bodyguards | |
| But look at the snitch, your whole face is scarred | |
| Go 4 yourz | |
| Chorus: tim dog (repeat 3x) | |
| You gotta go 4 yourz {suckers} go 4 yourz {suckers} | |
| [ced gee] | |
| Yo listen up, a lot of rappers wanna be hard | |
| Walkin around with fifty-seven bodyguards | |
| Armed with guns, crazy automatics | |
| Wearin black, but they're faggots | |
| Cause when the gods are gone, and the guns are gone | |
| And they're one on one with someone | |
| Time to put the fist up straight into action | |
| Blow for blow for real satisfaction | |
| Hit the deck the results are fatal | |
| They can't throw cause they're not able | |
| To kick out a left hook and follow with the overhand, left | |
| But duck cause you'll miss he'll land, a bomb | |
| And put you on the canvas | |
| You wish your boys were there but they're in kansas | |
| +back on the block+ like quincy jones makin cash | |
| While you're on the road, goin out like a jackass | |
| So when you're out there, perpetratin fantasies | |
| You need to stop it, and face reality | |
| And grow up like a man who understands | |
| Be yourself, never give a damn | |
| About who accepts you, because it's only you | |
| Who choose.. | |
| Chorus | |
| [tim dog] | |
| Gotta go 4 yourz, you gotta go get yourz, get yourz | |
| Get yourz, get yourz | |
| Go 4 yourz, go 4 yourz | |
| Go, go, go, go! (gone!) |
| Yes indeed one time | |
| This is for all you stupid niggaz out there | |
| Talkin that dumb doo doo weak shit | |
| We comin live and direct | |
| Straight in your motherfuckin face with some pure raw shit | |
| And we gon' get busy, like this | |
| It' s been a while, since i seen a good street fight | |
| A good fight, throwin fist to fist | |
| Blow for blow, toe for toe, yeah | |
| Put your gun down, and give a brother a fair fight | |
| Smitty with a left jab, no ak | |
| Automatic pistol, put it the hell away | |
| Bring out a baseball bat for your black ass | |
| Cincinatti, beatin down on oakland | |
| But i' ll be the referee, while nose get broken | |
| And basket broken, and brains get beat down | |
| Bronx style, buckwild, nobody should jump in | |
| Just stand the hell way back, before you get slapped back | |
| No posse to run back, the gangsta hard talk | |
| Braggin on the mic, you shootin cops | |
| But when you in a cell, shootin stops | |
| Look at the murderers, third degree psychos | |
| Waitin to get hanged, and next on death row | |
| Behind the steel bars, you' re froze and can' t throw | |
| But back on the streets with a tool you are still hard | |
| Callin yourself god, and hangin with bodyguards | |
| But look at the snitch, your whole face is scarred | |
| Go 4 yourz | |
| Chorus: tim dog repeat 3x | |
| You gotta go 4 yourz suckers go 4 yourz suckers | |
| ced gee | |
| Yo listen up, a lot of rappers wanna be hard | |
| Walkin around with fiftyseven bodyguards | |
| Armed with guns, crazy automatics | |
| Wearin black, but they' re faggots | |
| Cause when the gods are gone, and the guns are gone | |
| And they' re one on one with someone | |
| Time to put the fist up straight into action | |
| Blow for blow for real satisfaction | |
| Hit the deck the results are fatal | |
| They can' t throw cause they' re not able | |
| To kick out a left hook and follow with the overhand, left | |
| But duck cause you' ll miss he' ll land, a bomb | |
| And put you on the canvas | |
| You wish your boys were there but they' re in kansas | |
| back on the block like quincy jones makin cash | |
| While you' re on the road, goin out like a jackass | |
| So when you' re out there, perpetratin fantasies | |
| You need to stop it, and face reality | |
| And grow up like a man who understands | |
| Be yourself, never give a damn | |
| About who accepts you, because it' s only you | |
| Who choose.. | |
| Chorus | |
| tim dog | |
| Gotta go 4 yourz, you gotta go get yourz, get yourz | |
| Get yourz, get yourz | |
| Go 4 yourz, go 4 yourz | |
| Go, go, go, go! gone! |
| Yes indeed one time | |
| This is for all you stupid niggaz out there | |
| Talkin that dumb doo doo weak shit | |
| We comin live and direct | |
| Straight in your motherfuckin face with some pure raw shit | |
| And we gon' get busy, like this | |
| It' s been a while, since i seen a good street fight | |
| A good fight, throwin fist to fist | |
| Blow for blow, toe for toe, yeah | |
| Put your gun down, and give a brother a fair fight | |
| Smitty with a left jab, no ak | |
| Automatic pistol, put it the hell away | |
| Bring out a baseball bat for your black ass | |
| Cincinatti, beatin down on oakland | |
| But i' ll be the referee, while nose get broken | |
| And basket broken, and brains get beat down | |
| Bronx style, buckwild, nobody should jump in | |
| Just stand the hell way back, before you get slapped back | |
| No posse to run back, the gangsta hard talk | |
| Braggin on the mic, you shootin cops | |
| But when you in a cell, shootin stops | |
| Look at the murderers, third degree psychos | |
| Waitin to get hanged, and next on death row | |
| Behind the steel bars, you' re froze and can' t throw | |
| But back on the streets with a tool you are still hard | |
| Callin yourself god, and hangin with bodyguards | |
| But look at the snitch, your whole face is scarred | |
| Go 4 yourz | |
| Chorus: tim dog repeat 3x | |
| You gotta go 4 yourz suckers go 4 yourz suckers | |
| ced gee | |
| Yo listen up, a lot of rappers wanna be hard | |
| Walkin around with fiftyseven bodyguards | |
| Armed with guns, crazy automatics | |
| Wearin black, but they' re faggots | |
| Cause when the gods are gone, and the guns are gone | |
| And they' re one on one with someone | |
| Time to put the fist up straight into action | |
| Blow for blow for real satisfaction | |
| Hit the deck the results are fatal | |
| They can' t throw cause they' re not able | |
| To kick out a left hook and follow with the overhand, left | |
| But duck cause you' ll miss he' ll land, a bomb | |
| And put you on the canvas | |
| You wish your boys were there but they' re in kansas | |
| back on the block like quincy jones makin cash | |
| While you' re on the road, goin out like a jackass | |
| So when you' re out there, perpetratin fantasies | |
| You need to stop it, and face reality | |
| And grow up like a man who understands | |
| Be yourself, never give a damn | |
| About who accepts you, because it' s only you | |
| Who choose.. | |
| Chorus | |
| tim dog | |
| Gotta go 4 yourz, you gotta go get yourz, get yourz | |
| Get yourz, get yourz | |
| Go 4 yourz, go 4 yourz | |
| Go, go, go, go! gone! |
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