Cover art for Do What U Wanna by Tre-8

Do What U Wanna

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Do What U Wanna Lyrics

(Code 6)

Whoa na niggas, it's that wicked Westbank puttin' it down again
Worldwide status, you know how we do it
Off top baby, it's a street thing

Chorus (Tre-8):

Nigga do what'cha wanna
Maintain, do ya thing how you wanna
Any nigga talk stupid he's a goner
Body bag, toe tag, call the coroner, whoa
Nigga do what'cha wanna
Maintain, do ya thing how you wanna
Any nigga talk stupid he's a goner
Body bag, toe tag, call the coroner, whoa

First Chorus (Tre-8):

Paper chaser off top
Livin' foul cuz you hot
Slugged up, thugged out, on your way to the top
Too hot for these bitches, lil' Daddy, you on fire
Hoes they admire your whole attire cuz you not for a shopper
Then your peers, look here, you the shit
Role' around your wrist, livin' life like you rich
It's a part of the game to maintain so do your thang
These bitches know they can't hang
So you glisten like a chain
Shinin' and big timin'
Blindin' like a diamond
Hoes, steady whinin' cuz you always shinin'
Drivin', in a Benz, next day in a Lex
With a triple beamer but it ain't finished yet
Faw, they can't take ya, shive is in your nature
Hoes they wanna date'cha
Niggas wanna erase ya
That's a technical foul, throw them bitches out the game
Well get it, how you live, in other words do your thang
Chorus

Second Verse (Code 6):

Man, these niggas don't know my steez I throw the beats
Talk a bitch down to her knees when it comes to makin' cheese
Nigga please, I only associate with G's
Ice Mike Entertainment we bring it to you with ease
Swarmin' like killer bees
In your system like weed
And your hood, and your radio and TV
And we all in, haters wanna see us fallin'
You think we ballin', but still blunts be callin'
We got dealers and killas in every ward
Lil' thugs with Dillingers in their back pocket, now that's hard
Runnin' you niggas heads, bodies turnin' up dead
Raw is how we play it
You know somethin'? Better not say it
Witnesses don't make it out
And it don't matter how you hear it
Or if you see it don't open up your fuckin' mouth
Mindin' your business is a plus
And holdin' court on the street is a must
Especially for us

Chorus
Third Verse (Zeeda):

Slugged up, thugged out
Takin' niggas out
It's the bitch with the clout
Comin' straight from the South
With the boots in my mouth
The ice around my neck
Now watch this bitch flex
Cuz I'm rollin' in a Lex
Got it up in the game
Goin' out with a bang
Somethin' like a rig or tanks
And I'm stickin' like a stain
Wet them boys in the brain
Comin' sharper than a pane
Killin' hoes no remains
Got some dope? I'll leave 'em drained
I'm the bitch with the ice
Roll a seven on the dice
Trigga platinum on the sights
So you know we ain't nothin' nice
And I'm all about the price
Buy weight or your life
Keeps a pistol or a knife
Try to fuck me we gone fight
Rest up all with your wife
Sleepin' on the bunk tonight
Met my bail, watch me kite
Fuck a ride, watch me hike
Mail came, all the night
See a bitch all in the stripes
But I say I can't fuck around, Lil' P-P ain't nothin' nice
Chorus

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