Текст песни Blaze Ya Dead Homie f Insane Clown Posse - 1 Less G in Tha Hood
Blaze Ya Dead Homie f Insane Clown Posse - 1 Less G in Tha Hood слова песни
* send corrections to the typist (Violent J)Killas kick the anthem like thisJuggalos up in this bitch, up in this bitchKillas kick the anthem like thisJuggalos up in this biiiitch, blaze (Blaze Ya Dead Homie)G`s up, ridin` from the cradle to the casketAnd beyond, recognize thug shitPoundin` out the trunk bitchRunnin` wit` a mother fuckin` hatchetyou haters, you suck dick was a thug, became a GB to the L to the A, Z, E, still deadStill don`t give a fuck (give a fuck)Sportin` all black kahkis with the mother fuckin` cuffs upSmokin` Hella trees, tryin` to make a couple G`sSo a thug can get back on his feetMean muggin`, steady thuggin`And I`m tryin` to find the hoodrat`s all about fuckin`Still loked outAll my dawgs from the past, dead or smoked outStill tryin` to come up on a lick for a phat ass rideSo I can drop the top, and parlay through the east side Chorus(Monoxide Child)Niggas kick the anthem like thisJuggalos up in this bitch, up in this bitch! x 4 (Blaze)Bitches freeze, you aint a thug or a G or a banga`You`s a studio gangstaYou aint about shit, scared to pull the trigga`That`s what we call, a real bitch nigga` (bitch nigga`)Sneekin` through the hood, throwin` up a setHangin` out the window, yellin` idol threatsCheck this out, I`m a check your chinClose your mouth, `fore I put the barrel inDumpin` clips in yo ass is what I`m all aboutStraight G from the clique on a paper routeStill slappin` off fake bitches with the LouivilleBeat a nigga` to the pavement, another bitch killed Chorus(Monoxide Child) (Jaime Madrox)This is the battle for the planetsWe bring the thunder, givin` half the advantageFuck a style and a statusHalf of y`all hummin` off a half ass dealAnd got the nerve to tell a mother fucker "keep it real"We see through y`all fools, like cellophane on the square packYou bite our shit, you can keep it, we don`t want it backWe don`t give a fuck, east side for lifeAnd if you aint got heart, don`t expect to have your shit tightThere aint no room for the hoe-heartedWe give a fuck where you at, or who you wit`, or how you got startedFuck you and everybody in yo cliqueIf you don`t run wit` a hatchet, or claim the PsychopathicI aint got time, to say no namesIt`s only 8 rhymes, no holla`, we been in the gameBesides fuck it, no speakin your nameYou`re just a bitch in the gameAnd y`all niggas gone` always be the same Chorus x8 *Hammer slide*