Lyrics Don't Mess - Boo-Yaa T.R.I.B.E.

(The moral of that story is
Don't mess around and get yo ass stomped)

(The Godfather Rock)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah- yeeaaaah)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boooooooo-Yaa!

Yeah
(Yeah)
(Come on)
(Posses better step back)
Tell em what it is)

(VERSE 1: Gangsta R? dd)
Don't mess with a riot, we're prisoners of emotion
How politicians figure they have the potion?
But I'm the witch doctor, I came to rock ya
(And if it don't work) Then I'm gonna sock ya
Don't need the violence, but violence is here
Listen up close and put on a riot gear
Cause Boo Yaa T.R.I.B.E. is comin up hard
(What you think about the posse?) I think we see in a graveyard
I'm the rap criminal, comin from mym limo
Every lyric I say, I write it down on my memo
The MC in commandm my A.K.? they banned?
Me and you one on one, Ganxta R? dd still stand
I never dirty my back, I never ever get jacked
On stage (cause he carries a gat)
.44's large, I got a big bodyguard
The rap mafia Godfather Rock is in charge
You don't mess
With the Boo-Yaa funk

(The Godfather Rock)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah- yeeaaaah)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boooooooo-Yaa!

I'm gonna tell you only once

(Yeah)
Yo Loc
Pass me that second clip, homeboy
I can do this
(Tell em what we about)

Don't mess with a dopedealer, makin transactions
Cause makin money is their satisfaction
Sellin drugs is the way they survive
Smokin drugs is the way they die
So who's the main killer, the pusher or the user?
You figure it out, I'm not here to accuse ya
Cause I'm a dope dealer, slingin records
Makin records, breakin records, settin records
So now you know what time it is
You don't mess with the stuff, you can't hang with this
I'm a pusher, a killer, never to be followed
(To all you posses) 187 with a beer bottle
SO how you figure, the R? dd behind the trigger
Huh, you try to run, I hunt you like a ninja
Cause I'm so wuick (how quick?) like lightning
To MC's the R? dd is so frightening
They keep askin me (R? dd what you writing?)
A letter to the posse who comin here fightin
So like a dope dealer would
You shortstop, my customer, get sprayed with the A.K.
You don't mess
Homeboy

(The Godfather Rock)
(Yeah, yeah, yeah- yeeaaaah)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
(Don't mess with)
Boooooooo-Yaa!

I'm gonna say it only once

Come on
(Yeah)
You think they're ready for the lasy one?
(I don't know)
Bring on that clip homeboy
(That one was too funky)
(Give it to me anyway)
(Come on)

Don't mess with the boys in black when your ass get tapped
LIfe of last (lane) never been delayed
Commit a crime on stage and still get paid
Makin dollars to holler, your posse's to follow
The T.R.I.B.E. get bigger, your posse get smaller
Your lyrics is scratched, your record is dubbed
You ask what's the funk hypin up the club
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
The you turn to your lady as you say it again
Boo-Yaa funkin it up
Yeah
Don't mess with a bullet when the trigger is pulled
You don't mess with the T.R.I.B.E. when we act a fool
The Godfather Rock TE, once he starts snappin
O.M.B. on the bass, he starts slappin
R? dd starts rappin, T.R.I.B.E. start cappin
Your posse plays it up, I say, "Yo, what happened?"
Now they got me in a cell, but they fail
I still got E.K.A. and Don-L raisin hell
(Ooh, that's funky mama)