EAZY-E - NIGGAZ MY HEIGHT DON'T FIGHT LYRICS

Writer(s):ERVIN, BOBBY F/LLOYD, COREY D/SINGLETON, CHARLES
Artist: Eazy-e Lyrics
Popularity: 17 users have visited this page this week.

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Gimmie this, gimmie that, gimmie this, gimmie that
*****, step back and don't try to jack
"But mister dopeman, dopeman, can I get a hit?"
No, hoe but you can get my duck sick...

But let me finish my story as I was sayin'
I told you lil locs ain't playin'
Gotta roll with the bunches
can't help the travellin' bunches
Now ain't that somethin'
Just a case a few *****z try to trip
Bone-out, put on my skimask
And come back blastin'
Cause *****z my height don't fight
My name is Eazy-E
You're motha****in' right
They must to thought I was a busta
Wearin' your bullet-proof vest
So what's next?
I got my nine fitted up with deadline
And don't let me hit the wetbomb
So watcha want to do?
The red, white and blue, I got some for you too
Cause it gonna be on when i'm kickin' down my dough
So say hello to my new 44...

I'm a type of *****...
That smokes motha****az...
That smokes motha****az...
I don't give a **** ****...
Smoke motha****az...
I'ma smoke motha****az...
Cause I'm the "E"

So you can kiss my black ***
**** the white house, it ain't my house
So you can burn the motha****a down for all I care
Cause t-shirts and khakies is all I wear
I'm from the city where they show no pitty
For a punk *** mark in the park
Blow his brains out, stuck him in the bushes
Take his gat, leave his *** for the rats
And let me hit that cisco, I got a 187 on my pistol
Warrant by the LAPD
Key for puttin' in work out my trade
Because the president never simp
One dumb dog to my residents
I'm goin' crazy like 1980
I need my ends, **** you, pay me
Or I'ma have to get the strap
My nutty O.G. buddy Big Black
I make you **** in your pants
And shake like jelly
So tell off my homie said hello...

I'm a type of *****...
That smoke motha****az... 
That smoke motha****az...
I don't give a ****...
Smoke motha****az...
Smoke motha****az...
Like it ain't no thang...

You can't check a checker
But when you want to try let me know
I got the strecher on stand-by
Starvin' for a ***** like you
The things is much bigger 
Than the trigger
So I can show how to put in work:
The Ruthless-network drive-by experts
Straight outta compton kickin' up dust
The place where guns don't get a change to rust
I warned them and they still approached me
Now I got two more golf-hats for my trophy
I got a brand new trend, it's killin' men
Who is that? That's my little friend...

I don't give a ****...
I don't give a ****...
I don't give a **** **** **** **** ****...
I don't give a ****...
I don't give a ****...
Smoke motha****az...
Like it ain't no thang...

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Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, THE SONGWRITERS GUILD OF AMERICA, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.

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