"Threat" lyrics
Yo, what's up, pimp, this threats
That's right, that's the, the that's, this threats, pimp
And I'm serious about mine, I'm so sincere
And I, nigga I'll kill ya, I'll chop ya up
Put ya inside the mattress like drug money, nigga
Yeah, I done told you niggas 9 or 10 times, stop fucking with me
I done told you niggas, 9 albums, stop fucking with me
I done told you niggas, the 9 on me, stop fucking with me
You niggas must got 9 lives
9th Wonder
Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya
Am I frightening ya? Shall I continue?
I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song
I let it hum to ya, the other one sing along
Now it's a duet and you wet when you check out
The technique from the two TECs and I don't need two lips
To blow this like a trumpet, you dumb shit
This is a unusual musical, I conduct it
You looking at the Black Warren Buffett
So all critics can duck sick
I don't care if you C. Delores Tuck-it
Or you Bill O'Reilly, you only riling me up
For three years, they had me peeing out of a cup
Now they 'bout to free me up, what you think I'm gon' be, what?
Rehabilitated? Man, I still feel hatred
I'm young, black and rich so they wanna strip me naked, but
You'll never have me like Christina Aguiler-y
But catch me down the Westside, driving like Halle Berry
Or the FDR, in the seat of my car
Screaming out the sunroof, "Death to y'all"
You can't kill me, I live forever through these bars
I put the wolves on ya, I put a price on your head
The whole hood'll want ya, you starting to look like bread
I send them boys at ya, I ain't talking 'bout feds
Nigga, them body-snatchers, nigga, you heard what I said
I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the morning
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fucking with me
R I P
That's right there nigga, nigga, I'm wild
Nigga I keep trash bags with me
Never know when you gotta dump a nigga out
This sincere, this some sincere shit right here!
Grown man, I put hands on you
I dig a hole in the desert, then build the Sands on you
Lay out blueprint plans on you
We Rat Pack niggas, let Sam tap dance on you
Then I Sinatra, shot ya, goddamn you
I put the boy in the box like David Blaine
Let the audience watch, it ain't a thing
Y'all wish I was fronting, I George-Bush the button
For the oil in your car, lift up your hood, nigga run it
Then lift up your whole hood like you got oil under it
Your boy got the goods, y'all don't want nothing of it
Like, castor oil, I'll Castor Troy you
Change your face or the bullets change all that for you
Y'all niggas is targets, y'all garages for bullets
Please don't make me park it in your upper level
Valet a couple strays from the .38 special, nigga, God bless you
I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the morning
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fucking with me
R I P
Yeah I'm threatening ya, yeah I'm threatening ya!
Who you thank you dealing with?
They call me "threats", nigga
I been making threats since I been in kindergarten, nigga!
Huh, ask about me, see if you ain't heard
When the gun's tucked, untucked, nigga, you dies
Like nunchukus held by the Jet Li
I'm the one, thus meaning, no one must try
No two, no three, no four—know why?
Because one's four-five might blow yo' high
You ain't gotta go to church to get to know yo' God
It's a match made in heaven when I—blaow!—'splay the 7
Put you on "The Nigga News," UPN at 11
Where you been? You ain't heard?
Got the word that I'm—pew-pew!—that I'm so sincere?
I'm especially Joe Pesci with it, friend
I will kill you, commit suicide and kill you again
That's right
I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the morning
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fucking with me
R I P
What up? Motherfucker, I keep three motherfuckers what?
Nigga I'll throw a Molotov cocktail
Through your momma's momma's house
Nigga what the, where everybody live!
Undercover nigga, take your teeth out your mouth nigga
Chew your food up and put the shit back in your mouth nigga
And help you swallow
Nigga I take a mop handle off nigga
And sweep nigga, hold on, I'll be, nigga what?
That's right, that's the, the that's, this threats, pimp
And I'm serious about mine, I'm so sincere
And I, nigga I'll kill ya, I'll chop ya up
Put ya inside the mattress like drug money, nigga
Yeah, I done told you niggas 9 or 10 times, stop fucking with me
I done told you niggas, 9 albums, stop fucking with me
I done told you niggas, the 9 on me, stop fucking with me
You niggas must got 9 lives
9th Wonder
Put that knife in ya, take a little bit of life from ya
Am I frightening ya? Shall I continue?
I put the gun to ya, I let it sing you a song
I let it hum to ya, the other one sing along
Now it's a duet and you wet when you check out
The technique from the two TECs and I don't need two lips
To blow this like a trumpet, you dumb shit
This is a unusual musical, I conduct it
You looking at the Black Warren Buffett
So all critics can duck sick
I don't care if you C. Delores Tuck-it
Or you Bill O'Reilly, you only riling me up
For three years, they had me peeing out of a cup
Now they 'bout to free me up, what you think I'm gon' be, what?
Rehabilitated? Man, I still feel hatred
I'm young, black and rich so they wanna strip me naked, but
You'll never have me like Christina Aguiler-y
But catch me down the Westside, driving like Halle Berry
Or the FDR, in the seat of my car
Screaming out the sunroof, "Death to y'all"
You can't kill me, I live forever through these bars
I put the wolves on ya, I put a price on your head
The whole hood'll want ya, you starting to look like bread
I send them boys at ya, I ain't talking 'bout feds
Nigga, them body-snatchers, nigga, you heard what I said
I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the morning
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fucking with me
R I P
That's right there nigga, nigga, I'm wild
Nigga I keep trash bags with me
Never know when you gotta dump a nigga out
This sincere, this some sincere shit right here!
Grown man, I put hands on you
I dig a hole in the desert, then build the Sands on you
Lay out blueprint plans on you
We Rat Pack niggas, let Sam tap dance on you
Then I Sinatra, shot ya, goddamn you
I put the boy in the box like David Blaine
Let the audience watch, it ain't a thing
Y'all wish I was fronting, I George-Bush the button
For the oil in your car, lift up your hood, nigga run it
Then lift up your whole hood like you got oil under it
Your boy got the goods, y'all don't want nothing of it
Like, castor oil, I'll Castor Troy you
Change your face or the bullets change all that for you
Y'all niggas is targets, y'all garages for bullets
Please don't make me park it in your upper level
Valet a couple strays from the .38 special, nigga, God bless you
I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the morning
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fucking with me
R I P
Yeah I'm threatening ya, yeah I'm threatening ya!
Who you thank you dealing with?
They call me "threats", nigga
I been making threats since I been in kindergarten, nigga!
Huh, ask about me, see if you ain't heard
When the gun's tucked, untucked, nigga, you dies
Like nunchukus held by the Jet Li
I'm the one, thus meaning, no one must try
No two, no three, no four—know why?
Because one's four-five might blow yo' high
You ain't gotta go to church to get to know yo' God
It's a match made in heaven when I—blaow!—'splay the 7
Put you on "The Nigga News," UPN at 11
Where you been? You ain't heard?
Got the word that I'm—pew-pew!—that I'm so sincere?
I'm especially Joe Pesci with it, friend
I will kill you, commit suicide and kill you again
That's right
I make 'em wait for you 'til five in the morning
Put your smarts on the side of your garment
Nigga stop fucking with me
R I P
What up? Motherfucker, I keep three motherfuckers what?
Nigga I'll throw a Molotov cocktail
Through your momma's momma's house
Nigga what the, where everybody live!
Undercover nigga, take your teeth out your mouth nigga
Chew your food up and put the shit back in your mouth nigga
And help you swallow
Nigga I take a mop handle off nigga
And sweep nigga, hold on, I'll be, nigga what?
Thanks to takeurchick09 for correcting these lyrics.
Writer(s): 0, Robert S. Kelly
