Текст песни Big Pokey f Lil O, Kevo - Sick in Da Mind
Big Pokey f Lil O, Kevo - Sick in Da Mind слова песни
(*talking*)Another one, and another oneBad Azz (Bad Azz) Mix Tape (Mix Tape), 3 (3)M-O-B, Presidential, whoa whoa whoa[Big Pokey]I got a heavy attitude, and the balls to matchSprewheeling up the block, top falling backBack dime on my lap, when I`m crawling blackI treat one`s like hunds, cause they all`d stackIt ain`t your cataract cat, you just can`t see meBring your A game you still can`t beat me, you know it`s realChic check niggaz grill, when they disrespect itPop like break dancers, any nigga can catch itA 4-5`ll clear the lot, like lawsYour hoe keep riding my jock, bitch pauseLight on my feet, quick as a cat when I moveRide with the heat, fixing your hat see I`m a foolWith this automatic tool, I can make you feel meYou can`t be scared to die, if you wanna kill meA bunch of niggaz, gotta twist it aroundHumble but I`m sick in the mind, really[Hook - 2x]Sick in the mind, dog I need to change my waysQuick with the iron, like switch blades and K`s24 on the grind, I ain`t changed in daysTime is money and money is time, so don`t play[Kevo]Young Fever, I got a flow hotter than a chop shopAnd fold niggaz, like the roof on a drop topI squeeze a .50 Cal, when it`s time to mob blocksMake these niggaz Harlem shake, and throw in a pop lockAll-Star offense, for you haters that cock blockHere`s something for your mouth, to make you sizzle like Pop RocksYou wanna see me cuffed, everytime that the cops knockBut they lawyers ain`t strong enough, to go against my cockBread, because as soon as the cops inAll the shorties start dropping, I ain`t playing I`m hoppingWho you know besides me, keep the game on screensChain on beams, quick to put your brain on leanI`m drain-o-clean, known to spit flames on scenesStain on screens, bout to click my game on meanSwitch the fears, like Francis twist it with peersI`ve been all about my paper for years, cheers[Hook - 2x][Lil O]I score the work and hit the kitchen, man it`s animal instinctsAnd start with them cocoa grams, over my damn sinkI don`t understand, how the fuck could a man thinkThat money gon fall from the sky, like an airplaneBut down in H-Town, if you snooze you loseYou don`t grind you don`t shine, so I stick to the rulesAll I know is put it in they face, give `em the bluesAnd knock off something foreign, and hit it with shoesI`m a fool, in other words I`m sick in the mindI turn one into three, dog I`m sick with the grindAnd everytime the sun come up, it`s always here is a signIt tells me get your ass up, and get on the grindI put my back in the game, till it`s put up my spineAny nigga turn snitch, then hit with the ironYou a backward hustler, I`m a slicker to shineLike Bush, Escobar and Noreaga with bombs[Hook - 2x]