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U.S.D.A.
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Rough Out Here
[Intro:Slick P. talkin'] Haha! You niggas wann' play, mayn? You niggas wann' war? We'll take you to war! Dis tha shield mayn! C-T-E mayn! You dunno whatchu fuckin' with! (Fa Real)
[Chorus:] You niggas wanna play? - We got somethin' hot for ya Osama clips, we got a 100 shots for ya (Brrraa) USDA (Aye! ), Respect Da Shield! USDA (Aye! ), Respect Da Shield! You niggas wanna play? - We got somethin' hot for ya Osama clips, we got a 100 shots for ya USDA (Aye! ), Respect Da Shield! USDA (Aye! ), Respect Da Shield!
[Verse 1: Slick Pulla] It's da shield, who wann' problems with da 4 letters (Who?) Thunder storm, on ya block give ya bad weather (Hahaa) All black hoodie, all black gloves leather (Leather) MossBerg hitcha chest, lift ya like a feather (Suckas! ) And I keep a clique of young troop's firen' (Brrraa) Bustin' at cha ass like them boys in Blood Diamond (Blood Diamond) Grimy with it, but da boys stay shine (Sheeh! ) Baby choppa' arm put a jacket it in the line (Talk to em') You gon' bump and I knock off ya face (Brra) Witout the clippers nigga, you can get a fresh fade (Okaay) You loose-lipped niggas finna get buttoned up (Up) The Shield's here nigga, time to straighten up (Fa Real)
[Chorus]
[Verse 2: Young Roccett] I'm a leave a man in an abandoned buildin', screamin' for The Lord No feet no hands and includin' a broken jaw (Yup! ) Dress ya like a rapper so you don't feel left out In the same shirt boy dat got Kanye's chest out (Woo) No goofy for the oozi, the semi-auto to mac 11 A.K. 47 leave his brains on the front yard Infront of his daughter, his son no his grandpa Hommies in the street deep, lookin' like a Trump squad I'm a kill 'em, just gimme a clip I got blue everywhere, like it's revenge of The Crips Holes in ya body the size of a Bellagio chips Yeah Roccett-Locs burner, boy as hot as it gets (Wuh)
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: 2'11] Gimme everythang nigga dis the 2-11 Run upon 'em, pull the pistol out my.87 (Cla-Clack! ) Blood money, yeah we cashin' out mills (Okayye! ) Disrespect The Shield and get killed (Chyeah! ) Nah, it ain't a game dog, it's real in the field (Aye! ) X amount of shells pop-a-nigga like a pill Top down on the old' school 'Ville Chrome hundred spokes on the mothafuckin' wheels Trapstar, I got work in the area (In the area! ) United Streets D-Boyz of America (U-S-D-Ayy! ) Betcha life dat da MossBerg'll burry ya (Burry ya! ) They gone have to call a coroner to carry ya (Hahaa)
[Chorus]
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