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Messy Marv & San Quinn - The Wolves Come Out lyrics
[Messy Marv]
 Awww yeah, yeah, yo
 Young Mess struck the Mac and his lights went out
 Then I knocked all the ice out his mouth
 Check it out, one to the face, two to the neck
 Hit the liquor sto', then went back to the 'jects
 The fiends get credit, them hoes post up
 The police patrol, feds take close ups
 The block stay hot, it's work outside
 Don't ride through stuntin, cause you niggaz might die
 When the sun go down, them wolves come out
 Say the wrong shit I put the heater in yo' mouth
 Them boys sit on Tuesday, the money come fast
 I'm on the block with like, 50-11 rocks in my ass, be cool
 [Hook]
 When the sun goes down, the wolves come out
 The guns been outside, and we don't have droughts
 The fiends get credit, them hoes post up
 The police patrol, feds take close ups
 When the sun goes down, the wolves come out
 The guns been outside, and we don't have droughts
 The fiends get credit, the hoes post up
 The police patrol, feds take close ups
 [San Quinn]
 Night time is the right time to use that K
 Two-two-threes ain't cool they abuse yo' face
 I'm a stand up guy, I don't sit downMessy Marv & San Quinn - The Wolves Come Out - http://motolyrics.com/messy-marv-and-san-quinn/the-wolves-come-out-lyrics.html
 Killers don't talk, they break up crowds
 Eleven to six, have yo' pumpkin covered
 Your family won't love it when you turn up smothered
 I give day away, on lay away
 My shit so pure they can't stay away
 Plates with the groove it be tearin your nose up
 Blades so sharp they be tearin they toes up
 Put ten on yo' helmet, Niner or Raider
 Bronco or Charger, we will deflate ya
[Hook]
 [Messy Marv]
 Yeah, man fuck that Remi, bitch I'm on Gin
 The O.G.'s say I'm on my way to the pen'
 I don't give a fuck, its rocks in my low
 The stones in my mouth keep my Metro froze
 Fillmoe nigga, the belly of the beast
 They love me out in Oakland from the Bottoms to the East
 [San Quinn]
 Some claim they thuggin, but they stay out clubbin
 We outside waitin, got security duckin
 Bullets fly past ya, hittin bystanders
 Bout that gossip, you can die over slander
 Jumpin out the Phantom, doors suicide
 Gangsta's inside, and we don't coincide
[Hook]














