[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]
