Music Video

Cire Claybourne - *C-SECTION (Official Music Video)
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Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
ERIC N. NANCE
ERIC N. NANCE
Songwriter
BRYAN A. BROWN
BRYAN A. BROWN
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
TripleSixDelete
TripleSixDelete
Producer

Lyrics

I'm bouta catch me a body Yo, we gone run his shit And I ain't talkin' bout no cardio Yuh, I'm bouta catch me a body Yo, we gone run his shit And I ain't talking bout no cardio I'm bout to catch me a body and split Know that shotty gone split up his noggin' We hit up his patna's, put 'em in coffins and dip I ain't from slauson, but I got some robbers Know me some doggies that crip Off with his noggin', he slip Don't want no problems, then dip Catch em by the seams and split em up like a c-section If he on 13th and he want beef, we in the meat section Caught em by his feet, like a tiger Set em free To the funeral home and tell his momma come and see 'Cause yo son steady playin', I got mobstеrs he can meet Say yo son claim he bangin', 'til my monsters up that hеat Say his choppas steady ringing, but my choppa sing like "Glee" Get it poppin' like Chris B Caught his patna' in his sleep (Yuh) 'Bout to catch a 'Bout to catch a fuckin' body And I'm lurkin' crazy Lurkin' crazy, if you saw me Come and get me cause a Young nigga really posted up On my fucking block With them choppas if you bold enough I'm bouta catch me a body Yo, we gone run his shit And I ain't talking bout no cardio Yuh, I'm bouta catch me a body Yo, we gone run his shit And I ain't talking bout no cardio The street turn red when we blastin' from the audio Yo' shorty gave me big brain, she ain't even make the honor roll Yo' people know my people the type to let that chopper blow Hola como estas, make enemigos go "Adios" Slidin' on you niggas, I swear the street really not a pole Tú familia from barrio, tú tia yelling, "Papi no" You was poppin' in the city, now my patna's poppin' you You was poppin' in the city, now my patna's poppin' you I was cautionary, yellow signs You walk on eggshells They was on mission, down like missionary, feds yelled Dead rain, fire hail Red rum cocktail On thirteenth, they ain't jolly Nah, pro'ly get ya' top peeled (Body!) I'm bouta catch me a body Yo, we gone run his shit And I ain't talkin' bout no cardio Yuh, I'm bouta catch me a body Yo, we gone run his shit And I ain't talking bout no cardio
Writer(s): Eric Nance Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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