Fuck Dat

(album: Shut 'Em Down - 1998)

[Fredro Starr]
Yo! Turn that shit up, word up!
Afficial Nasty Niggas...Fuck Dat!
Ya niggas is dead-ass!
Know what I'm sayin'?
We're paying my niggaz All City 'n shit!
Word up! Yo Mega, Fuck Dat!
Rip that Brooklyn shit nigga!

[J. Mega, (Fredro Starr)]
What? What? What? What? What? What?
My fleet goals, by da creep cold
We blaze, y'all won't see those, you just feel 'em
We raise the states in this game, like helium
The new millenium, got me in mo' for killing 'em
Green backs, I want a mil (of) 'em!
But don't minimum, strictly max out, the ol's put the black out
Niggaz be fronting, we take the back rob
Now stay with that style, original, wanna act wild?
City putting cartracks out, as we stack now
We're nuthing to match out, formula
See it clearly through my corner-ya
This goes out to niggas on the corner, Mega's on ya
Rap performer, no diploma, I'm sipping on Corona, keep my carpet Coma
The East New York Soldier, what?
(Fuck Dat! That's the All City shit!
Yo Greg Valentine!)

[Greg Valentine, (Fredro Starr), {Sticky Fingaz}]
The beats be Rushen like Patrice
You better had that bulletproof vest under ya fleece
Then a clever sceam up ya slees, we has to say da least
Between the thugs and the police, shit'll never be peace
Cause holiday, raise ya weights ya hourly rate
We poly for higher states, buying fire escapes
See this, criminal life is like a 'roll it in dice'
Niggaz holding they ice, wild bust on a slice
Yo it's too often too hot, in this ghetto melding pot
Put out these fagat ass niggas try to steel what I got
As if, that ain't enough, for Jakes is rating the spot
Where we eat at, but tonight that's where they bleed at
That belone her with the flame, throwing their rain, it's over
Prayed to Jehova, jiggaz up, the game's over
(All City what, All City what?! Fuck Dat!
Yo Sticky) {wassup nigga?} (Come here nigga, Fuck Dat!
Let these muthafuckaz know nigga!!!) {I want some NEW SHIT!}
(Afficial Nast! What?!!)

[Sticky Fingaz, (Fredro Starr)]
Oh ooh, here the thug come, from out the dungeon
Say goodbye to ya love one, you can't run from, the dum-dum
Kicking WACK SHIT! I cut out ya tongue son!
I'm in this rap shit for the lump sum
Hit the stage as soon as the blunt's done
YOU DON'T WANT NONE! But regardless
We the wildest, you get demolished
I muthafucking, muthafucking murder, want charges!
Walking targets, kill any rap artist!
Still hate ya GUTS!, and hope that ya DIE!
If you not a ally, then yo ass gotta fry
Two lifes for a life without no remorse
You fucked up BIG TIME, you should've finished me off nigga!
(What?! Fuck Dat! Fuck Dat!
Afficial Nast what up?!
Yo Lefty, I got a new nigga for ya niggaz!
Yo Fuck Dat! Step up and shit....)

[Bubba Smith, (Fredro Starr), {X-1}]
I roll with gat-swingers, that bay arms like tanktops
A bunch of problem bringers, that an ass bet ya wanna make your bank stop
Guaranteed to make ya block hot, we running the spots
We're tired of jizzle 'n rocks, we straight up fucking in villains or jachts
Got the Big Apple on smash like mobbs, we're living hell really?!
So we just vanish 'n rob, paper telling me we all dying from a leg docs[?]
So fuck it, it's even get it get-got, so what?!
Bring it, I'm closing now shut, I don't give a FUCK about getting popped
Them thugs probably heard, left these two guns is al lot!
It's my time to go, playa, I'm trying to go spitting you
For the dolies, niggaz just press G-O
While shoot outs, reaching for the glocks, on my way to getting drugs
Still spitting ya, 3-60 pill, I was drugged up, in a sixth still SHITTIN' ya
Call it murder, besides anybody TRY to here missing
(Fuck Dat! Yo X -1 nigga!) {What nigga?}
(Ya betta fucking do this shit nigga!) {What what, what, what?!}
(Fuck Dat! Afficial Nasty Niggas!
Fucking taking this streets! That niggas is dead!)

[X-1, (Fredro Starr)]
All you crack niggaz, I don't even like your style
If it wasn't for love, you be dead right now
Speak upon the gun nor, X is laying it down
Dirty two rounds, spraying ya town
Taking dirt back under the ground, be a man, take ya laws
Die with the sacred course, six's being deep on the basic floors
(They hate that shit nigga! What?!
Kick the our fucking shit! Fuck Dat!)
Be a hard rock and see where you end up 'bout
Before my hart stops, kid I'm trying to see some jacks
You better get dropped dog, just read the facts
Dig a gunshot, at least about bringing you back
I run in cold spots, or walk that for liquid cats
X critical source, with criminal thoughts, under the physical laws
Your visual lost, X-million now, nigga tripple the course
I cripple your boss, what?!!

[Fredro & Sticky Fingaz]
Fuck Dat! Afficial Nast nigga!
Fuck Dat! Afficial Nast nigga!
Fuck Dat! Fuck Dat! Afficial Nast nigga!
Fuck Dat! Afficial Nast nigga!
Word up! Fucking All City!
Muthafucking Onyx!
Muthafucking Fredro Starr talking to you nigga!
Fucking Sonsee nigga! What da fuck is up?!
Yo Sticky, wassup nigga?! Gangreen in this muthafucka!
Bubba Smith 'n shit! Back da fuck up, everybody up!!
My nigga too dirty up in this muthafucka! (Know what I'm sayin?!)
DJ LS, Afficial Nast nigga! Fuck any DJ,yo Fuck Dat! (Any DJ nigga! Afficial Nast!)
Word up, Fuck Dat! Niggaz don't know! My muthafucking broher is saying, Fuck Dat!
Big Chris, Fuck Dat! Niggaz ain't seeing shit! Afficial Nast! Yo eat 'em up!
Get da fuck up outta here! [Car rushing away]