211 - 187 Lyrics - Singles - Unlv

Chorus: {u.n.l.v.} 

211s at night 187s in the day light 

Nigga we just don't give a fuck 

211s at night 187s in the day light 

Nigga we just don't give a fuck 

Verse one: {lil' ya} 

Nigga's be try'na rep and some fool's 

Be try'na buck but lil' ya that type of 

Nigga that just don't give a fuck 

But nathan and if you hatin' then 

You's a hater but I'm straight out that three 

So how the fuck you gonna fade her 

Soldier with a heart made of steel 

Like my nigga b, I handle business on the real and 

Then I chill make my rounds, pick up my car from 

My bitches 'cause I be hittin' 'em regular like 

Dre be hittin' his switches 

Clockin' my riches as I stroll through my hood 

Puffin' on a blunt givin' love where it's all good and 

For you nigga's who ain't go no love 

I ain't got no love for you chumps 

'cause I'm a smoke 'em and choke 'em 

Like a philly blunt 

Yeah, I'm gettin' my grove on 

I'm ready to move on 

To another level rob some nigga's or 

Whatever I got big nut's 

I got a big heart like I said it's been that way 

Since fuckin' start, you know me from my 

Fuckin' crew, you know what I'm bound to do 

I got a pit, I'm ready to spit, 

I'm ready to serve to uhh! 

Chorus 

Verse two: {yella boy} 

I even got's the boogy bangin' at'cha 

Grab my zookie if I have to 

Daze you up like daz 

I don't give a fuck like kurupt 

I'm dismantlin' mc's that come against me 

Me and the tecster in broad day light 

We comin' to do thee fuck it 

Of course, I'm a show no remorse 

Don't mean the boss, I never forget hoes 

Verse three: {tec-9} 

I'm gettin' skiet like that, I'm slippery like ease wax 

I chop ya down, like a disciple, with my riffle 

As if a white boy you disrespected my a-gender and 

Called me a nigga 

Verse four: { yella boy} 

I'm dumpin' you bitches out like boss hog 

I don't give a fuck about y'all 

You don't know what I would do to you 

But I know what'cha will do to you 

I would serve you, I would fuck clean over you 

Verse five: {tec-9} 

Y'all know that I'm back 

Like brand new wax on brand new cadalac's 

I'm mourin' I'm yawnin' plus I just 

Lost my equipment bag 

Verse six: {yella boy} 

Sweatin' like a zoo-loo to do you 

It's best you fuckin' scram 

I'm a champion I'm dumpin' on 'em 

I'm actin' a motherfuckin' donkey on 'em 

Chorus 

Verse seven {lil' ya} 

I'm bout to do a jack 

I got on all black 

In my hand lies a tool that 

I call my mack 

It's like my best friend 'cause when 

I spin the bin it don't get jammed 

Bullet's chargin' like a ram 

You bet's believe when them hollow's hit'cha 

You goin' in pocket bitch, you better drop it 

One nigga tested my nut's he had the nerve to flex and 

On his arm was a rolex, he flinched for 

His gat that was stashed in his suit coat 

I had to show him, I had to fuck over him 

Stunt a fuckin' lick of that hit and it was on 

Then I put the key's on the lab and 

Niggas started pushin' slab's 

My pocket's started gettin' swole 

My knot has thickened 

That's how it is when 

Nigga like ya, is flippin' halves to 

Quickers, quarter bird's, to bird's 

Keep a brew full of rock's 

'cause my bitch need a serve, 

Uploadin' kilt, puttin' in clip's at the 

Same time, beatin' you nigga's down 

With my bat if I ain't got that iron 

Leave yo mama cryin' why you shot my only son 

Gave him three to the head, smoke a blunt now I'm done 

Give me a bag of that helllo, and snort it up my nostril 

Drain got me loose as a goose and I wanna shot 

We put in work, doin' dirt everyday 

It's twelve noon, let's go get somebody 

To buy some yae, can't be no miner 

Got to be a big tymer, because i''m down to 

Pill a couple of cap's and get these nigga's out they snap's 

'cause i'm 

Verse eight: {tec-9} 

You bitches don't know the fuckin' size of this shit 

I'm on the rise with this shit 

See tommorow, the fuckin' clip bitch 

2-2-6 my boy's comin' 

Mag-11 hollow tip's nigga 

Better start runnin' 

When I start comin' up the block 

With my glock like a mad man 

In a mad rage face is caught on the front page 

Let them bitches catch me down bad 

With my 12-gage 

Verse nine: {yella boy} 

You despise, why I'm up in disguise 

Now you paralyzed plus you realize 

To stop playin' with me 

My click is quick to let them bullet's fly 

Click ya fuckin' self ya bitch you 

For you get downed 

Chorus 

We droppin' 'em stop playin' with me 

Stop playin' with me