Текст песни Beanie Sigel f Journalist, Major Figgas - Philly`s Finest, слова песни Beanie Sigel f Journalist, Major Figgas

Текст песни Beanie Sigel f Journalist, Major Figgas - Philly`s Finest

Beanie Sigel f Journalist, Major Figgas - Philly`s Finest слова песни

(mixed and scratched sample)P-H-I-L-L-Y, North, West, Southwest South sideP-H-I-L-L-Y, Give it to them bitches and niggas who stay fly[Verse 1 - Beanie]You know my flavorLow linen double s gatorsJeans ripped on purposeMoure written in cursiveTool shirt with the belt to matchFour pound send shots through your Celtics capYou know me, B. Sigel with that lethal spitFuck around and get your people hitTek 22 see through clipNiggas know who I creep through withMajor niggas, you know, Major FiggasI roll them corners and drop four birds with four wordsNiggas get the flippinBefore niggas get the missinI`m known for that duct tape, rope and pistol whippinBack door, dope and coke from when boat ship inIt ain`t no tellin what I do for a trunk of crackTold y`all dudes that I`m quick to trunk a catYou know my tools, either the pump or the macCatch me at your kids school playin Uncle Mac[Verse 2 - Journ]Yo what you think I couldn`t shine on you cause your chain glistenin?When they said the name Journalist you wasn`t listeninChange the condition of the Range that you sittin inPull out the pistol in, shoot out your MichelinsLeave you in your boy Rover with a poor odorJourn, slim bulldozer with the broad shouldersWeek into your tour I`ma call your broad overBefore she hit the salon, bustin the whore rollersYou tryin to play the fast roleDawg you an ass holeYour chick gave me your cock, cigar and your bath robeTest the circle, beat you till your purpleThen have my man search you from your hat to your workbootsFam fuck you and the cats that co signed youCatch you while you on your Ducotti and clothesline youTryin to cop a spot like the one they shot Tony inJournalist for Doo Wop, the true Mitronian[Bridge - Dutch]P-H-I-L-L-YWhy should we tell y`all why?Where why and how we ride?P-H-I-L-L-Y[Verse 3 - Gillie]A`yo rap cancer, flow sick I flow illerMy goal is to move more units than ThrillerIts G-D-K slash God damn killerslash Gillie Da KidNigga can I live?Guns keep, never get ridDid a minor bidOnly for one weekA Thug let his gun speakReal player, never fall in love with a freakMy raps is like crack, I distribute to the streetO`s in the form of flows, China WhyteYou say I`m okay, your chick think I`m dynamiteShe love my flow, she love my clothesWhen it come to them, I`m like Snoop "I don`t love them hoes"See my niggas cop cars, watch flooded with stonesKnowin that my voice`ll probly sell a million aloneNigga bout robbin Gillie? Un uh, pullin the chromeAimin straight at your face then I`m killin you holmes[Verse 4 - Dutch]MF it don`t get no realer than thatSee the jails got my niggas I`m takin em backServe em out for any smoker who got taste for the crackI`m takin it all, whether its a safe or a packI`m layin you down, whether its a eight or a macSee I love to bust guns, but I hated the soundand I muzzled em up dawg just to quiet em downWhere my West coast niggas at? Shots to the groundWhere my East coast niggas at? Safes`s and poundsI got, pimp in my walk nigga, pimp in my talkDawg I bust you niggas first before my players fallI`m already called it quits, don`t want it in no morePut the gun to my head, blaow say fuck it allYou can`t get no women player, they don`t want a warYou can`t sell no cane dawg, you too damn softMe I sell it all player, from the hard to softYou just a boss player, tryin`a roll with boss[Bridge][Verse 5 - Bump]Seems like you don`t know how much life is leftTill I revolve six in your cheststart at your vestSend you into cardiac arrestchokin, weezinWhat gave you the idea that Bump wasn`t squeezinBump ain`t packin? Bump ain`t holdin?Bump won`t put it in your face leave it swolen?Do it for the paper, yeah players hate my hustleYoung nigga, chrome 38 I hate to tussleSix hundred platinum skates from the muscleKeep work on the strip, shit I live to the hustleStep my game up to a bird from a bundleFootball shit, cook wrong nigga fumbleBlocks on the shoes, twelve on the wheelCris till I spit in the club with the steelI hope you niggas thinkin Bump J won`t killYou be dead on arrivalNigga no survival

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Текст песни Beanie Sigel f Journalist, Major Figgas - Philly`s Finest

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