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Artist: Master Fuol
Album:  Brownsville Kid
Song:   Don't Worr' Bout
Typed by: Davida.b.

[Hook: Master Fuol]
Who you wit wit trick?
Who you spit with?
Spit Squad, word to God as my witness
And if a Fuol want static, cause friction
And if he on the floor, dog, get your licks in

[Chorus X2: Master Fuol]
Don't worr bout them niggas I'm with
Don't worr bout them bitches I'm with
You heard we be makin them hits

[Master Fuol]
Don't worr bout them chickens I got
Clothes I wear and sneakers I rock
Streets on lock cuz the bass too loud
Now come on ??? to get you out
Never ran, never will
Better hand, better deal
Don't worr bout my skill for real
Our ya'll feel that hot lead, cold steel
Don't worr bout me where bouts
Leave my boo, gotta hear her bouts
House of crack, I sleep on the couch
People on the block, we cleared out
Empty shell, we tear it down
You can't smoke pot, my gat's gon pop
Don't shoot at ??? cuz you didn't ???
Fuck it ain't right, but I don't wanna be wrong

[Chorus X2]

[Master Fuol]
I was taught and told all the things I do
Chickens cross the road to see Fuol, but dude
Flap your wings for the ding a ling
And if it don't ba ding ding, then it don't pa ching
I ain't worried bout nothin, all night, out clubbin
Don't worr bout who I'm with, or the bitch I'm fuckin
Don't worr bout my bitch, worr bout your kids
Don't worr bout where I live, worr bout your click, you dig?
Don't worr bout the trees I smoke, worr bout (spanish)
Don't worr bout the (spanish), don't worr bout it, teach my folks
Yee Haaw, where my cowboys at?
Shoot comptiers with a cowboy mac
Fireside is where I'm at, catch me in the back where the party's at

[Chours X2]

[Master Fuol]
Don't worr bout my bottom briefs, from the ?bottle of piss?
We got it on strip, we love gettin invited to they ??? to the ???
Love gettin they ??? spit, cars I drive, run by five
Woord, Nacho Lova, got mo love to the geeks on the otha side
Love my ??? niggas ?and why?
Where I rest, where I roam
Niggas ain't comin to the Terror Dome
With a xylophone and a ?? bone
I play these chickens like Sharon Stone
They love gettin ?friends name in?
Love my fine and friendly friends. leather Timbs, contact lens
I bet any ??? that bitch, bring them in to Iceberg Slim
Also dough, come on in, I push a pimp into some old ???
See you in the back of someone's van

Chorus to Fade