You Can Get The Gat For That Lyrics - Spice 1

You can get the gat for this 

And you can get the gat for that 

[Chorus] 

Niggas wonder why S-P-I do or die 

I don't give a fuck, I'm just a nigga stayin' high 

So why do you roll with a strap on ya side 

Cause these playin hatin niggas want to jack me for my rizzide 

Niggas wonder why S-P-I do or die 

I'm just a young nigga and I'm tryin' to get my cash on 

So why do you roll with a strap on ya side 

Cause if shit'll get too funky I might have to get my blast on 

It goes 1 for the treble, two for the funk 

Time to get my motherfuckin' twelve gauge pump 

I blast off like NASA, as I rolls right past ya 

Bust a couple a caps and leave ya ghost like casper 

I peels caps like bad, comes wicked like Is 

They make me hollow tipped and then they seal it with a kizz 

For them bootsie motherfuckers that be ridin around 

Hidin around the corner tryin to get a motherfucker down 

Wearin his adams apple like a fuckin' snapple 

Dismantle motherfuckers, and hear they bodies crackle 

Laugh like a jackel as I tackle they ass 

With a fury of them buckshots, crackin' they mask 

Kinda skip the drama, puts bodies in freezers like Jeffrey Dahmer 

You can get the gat for that kidnap your mama 

The big mack from the itty-bitty city 

Niggas actin' shitty so I licks 'em with my nitty 

[Chorus] 

Stick that nigga, I told my DJ Xtra Large 

As we pull some niggas car up out his own garage 

I stack them niggas up in them hearses like a can a sardines 

2000 dollars a body, I'm for hire if you got the green 

"Ya got the mad buy, my millimeter to say 

187, comin' wicked leavin' black much day" 

I don't be fuckin' with them niggas who be shady 'n' shit 

Better stock that grip and an extra clip and a bottle a Hindu to sip on 

Trip on this nigga that's leavin' 'em dead in the alley 

What's your murder penal code? 781 here in Cali 

Red rum, we hit'cha and we give ya some 

See mosta these niggas up in my set, we bustin' dumb-dums 

My uzi eats 'em up and spits 'em out, fuck a title bout 

I'm pullin' my gat up out a fist fight with out a doubt 

Cause I ain't playin, fightin is fuckin' around 

I'd rather bust and leave your ass 6 feet up under ground 

[Chorus] 

Yeah, its the G-Motherfuckin' Nizzo, that nappy headed nigga 

They got me lookin' up over my shoulder now man 

I gotta strap 

I ain't be shady, playa hataz hate me 

Bitches snitchin, heh, it really ain't the same 

But um, Spice told me once, him and DJ Xtra Large, they told me 

That I can get the strap for this 

And that I can get the strap for that 

And that's what the fuck I'm gone do 

I'm out this bitch man