Skilla Baby – Tiger Unit

Lyrics Tiger Unit – Skilla Baby

Huh
Naw for real, though
Naw for real
I heard n**gas dyin’ on the Westside
They sayin’ it was me
Ayy, hmm

N**gas dyin’ on the Westside, they sayin’ it was me
Man, leave that s**t in the streets, keep it G
When he die, you can claim the body, just don’t come to me
Gave my n**ga a few racks, but he’ll do that s**t for free
‘Cause I’ll do that s**t for him, ’cause he’ll do that s**t for me
I’m a beast, we controlled s**t on the Westside and the East
You’s a b**ch boy, quit doin’ all that woofin’, you a sheep
It’s way deeper than six feet, this s**t get deep, I’m losin’ sleep

N**gas dyin’, but n**gas on both sides tryna keep the peace
How the f**k I’m gon’ tell brodie stop, You know reapers gon’ reap
How I’m gon’ tell him stop bustin’ his gun That’s how he eat
I love my brother like he me, I treat him like he me
Him and me gon’ do it B.I.G until we D.I.E

My n**ga’ll kill my opps for free just because it’s me
You know me, I feed the streets
When I see him, put him on a tee, then go beat a beat
You won’t catch no lame b**ches with me, she gotta be a freak
Huh, ayy, n**gas dyin’ on the Westside, they sayin’ it was me
You ever wanted n**gas dead so bad, you ain’t want it for free
Man, you wanna pay your cheese
You tired of hearin’ n**gas breathe, huh
Man, the internet make n**gas think they tough
Every time I hear about a n**ga dyin’, I get a rush
I love goin’ on them drills, I love hearin’ my gun bust
Fah-fah-fah, them n**gas goin’, ahh, that s**t tough, huh

They gave me a million dollars, I’m still doin’ hoodrat s**t
Don’t ask me about no shows, I don’t even book my s**t
I done been shot, seen n**gas get dropped, that’s why I look like this
Brodie called, he say he seen an opp, I’m like, Cook that b**ch

Hmm, ayy, n**gas dyin’ on the Westside, they sayin’ it was me
I probably done came out like two hundred, this murder s**t ain’t free
A n**ga might as well off hisself, he think he murkin’ me
N**gas playin’ with me on the ‘Gram, they think they hurtin’ me
Make a n**ga burn the Westside down while I’m killin’ on the East
I heard an opp just got shot, the Bloods’ll call him BP
I wonder why these n**gas’ friends always bug-eye when they see me
I heard it’s cheese on his head, why he ain’t dead yet
Shootin’ dice, I gamble my life, I’m with Redman
Stop shootin’ them n**gas in they legs, we want head taps
Oh, they bein’ rappers They go out of town where they friends at

N**gas dyin’ on the Westside, they sayin’ it was me
Man, leave that s**t in the streets, keep it G
When he die, you can claim the body, just don’t come to me
Gave my n**ga a few racks, but he’ll do that s**t for free
‘Cause I’ll do that s**t for him, ’cause he’ll do that s**t for me
I’m a beast, we controlled s**t on the Westside and the East
You’s a b**ch boy, quit doin’ all that woofin’, you a sheep
It’s way deeper than six feet, this s**t get deep, I’m losin’ sleep

N**gas dyin’, but n**gas on both sides tryna keep the peace
How the f**k I’m gon’ tell brodie stop, You know reapers gon’ reap
How I’m gon’ tell him stop bustin’ his gun That’s how he eat
I love my brother like he me, I treat him like he me
Him and me gon’ do it B-I-G until we D-I-E…

Written by Skilla Baby
Skilla Baby | 2022