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Artist: Screwed Up Click f/ Bun B
Album:  The Take Over
Song:   I Don't Feel Ya
Typed by: Lil Hustle

Yeah, trill nigga music nigga
Real nigga music, that's why we don't feel you niggaz
Big balling Texas nigga, stand up

Nigga you ain't one of the real
Lil' daddy you ain't one of the trill, that's why I don't feel ya
Nigga you don't want you no deals
When it's time to grind you wanna chill, that's why I don't feel ya
Nigga, you don't be on them O's
Lil' daddy you ain't rolling them fo's, that's why I don't feel ya
Nigga, you ain't paid you no dues
Lil' daddy you ain't one of the trues, that's why I don't feel ya

[Lil' O]
Yeah, nigga I don't feel you at all
Like a bitch in her draws, trying to feel for some balls
It's some'ing funny bout you bro, in fact I feel you the laws
You a fish in the water, and I feel like I'm Jaws
And I bite a nigga ass, trying to play me for funny
If you owe me better pay me my money, before I make it rain dummies
Or you dead, on your house on your spouse
It's real in the motherfucking South, talking bout
Boys kicking down, your god damn do'
Yelling everybody, on the god damn flo'
Except we want our bread, with our god damn dough
Get your ass smoked, like some god damn dro
So know when you see me out in public, Lil' O is a felon
That won't hesitate to pull out, and put two in your melon
If you tell me that you gangsta, better know who you telling
Real know real, and I don't feel none of that bullshit you selling cause I know


Mama taught me one thang, use your brain
Beware of the niggaz you hang, I sewed the game
That's why I ain't gon' never change, and will remain
The same, as the first day you met me mayn
Now I don't feel none of you niggaz, I'm done with you niggaz
Gon' make me pull my gun on you niggaz, I'm warning you niggaz
That ain't ain't on that industry shit, you make a hit
And fake niggaz jump on dick, naw bitch
Real niggaz do real thangs, roll on swangs
Stack up change, and smoke a whole bunch of Mary Jane
Never will I tell, and communicate or associate
With bitch niggaz that's fake, that ain't about getting cake
Let me reiterate, or better yet illustrate
Facilitate and get it straight, that we ain't got the same traits
So don't try to imitate, just sit back and marinate
While trill niggaz orchestrate, collaborate and get cake


[Bun B]
Talking a whole lotta shit, to a G
I guarantee ya, you ain't ran across a nigga like me
See they done freed Pimp C, so UGK is back in this bitch
Riding Lac in this bitch, watching paper stack while swangas clack in this bitch
That's a fact in this shit, ain't nothing you can argue bout
I fuck around, and pull this semi six on your house
Kick in your front do', and start airing you pull you out
Put my motherfucking murder game, down and broil your mouth
Back to the slab, then back to the hood
Back to the back of the projects, back to acting no good
Diamonds up against the wood, wood grain up in the Caddy
Candy skating on them swangas, while smoking on a fatty
UGK and S.U.C., it's H.A.W.K. Bun and Lil' O
Representing the South, and the trill that's for real though
Don't make me hit your pussy ass, where it hurt
You never wore a "Free Pimp C" shirt, so fuck nigga I don't feel ya