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Текст песни Brotha Lynch Hung f Cos - Art of War

Brotha Lynch Hung f Cos - Art of War слова песни

[Lynch Talking]Art of War nigga, (nigga get in)The art of war, (I know where he at)Dedicated to the niggazthat feel they need to make a living off niggazYou know, check it out[Brotha Lynch Hung]I smell pussy push me, I got a hard dick for killin`Go head and start shit wid the villainand get your heart split in a million piecesYou need Jesus I can tell by your releases pleaseHe suck nuts for cheese somebody grease his kneesIf you suck nuts for a livin` trust me at least it`s theseLynch haul all up in ya mouth tryna release the steamAnd you can rub it on like VisineAnd you can dub it all in high speed and watch that bitch nigga screamAnd it`s nothin` it`s no thing I hit the cornerYou was lucky and nosy nervous at the cornerI woulda grabbed the body stabbed the bodyThen cut the body up like meat and eat `em ganja leavesGrab the shotty and get away got away scott cleanSo you grab the body I`m in the MozarottiSmashin` down I street, all the way from the jail houseGave it a chance and then I had to bail the hell outTight shit but I don`t wanna go through thatSittin` wid my celly like, how did I do that?See I had to leave `em blue black, the fool`s backWid spits like jackler when ya runnin` wid two gats[Hook: scratching of these lines]"There`s a war going on outside""The way of life is the way of death""Coming from the thirty six chambers"(x2)[Cos]Seems like I can`t mash these daysCause everybody wanna try to blast C wayLike everybody wanna pass these daysBut talk shit about my click we gon` blast these K`sThese niggaz gay cats jay cats walkin` cross the streetWhen we see `em I`m mashin` like we on a race trackThese niggaz way wack, they knew that since way backThat`s why when you gave me your shit it got no playbackYou niggaz play rap, we be on that real tipWe in the Source mag, we gain the ill tipAnd if y`all don`t feel this, y`all must not feel shitDon`t buy that nigga album man he a real bitchThis nigga tryna make a dollar off my nig`s shitDon`t talk shit to gain fame that`s some ill shitCome wid some real shit, and stop lyin`Cause you ain`t never shot nobody and copped a diamond niggaHook[Brotha Lynch]Slim love you well slim joke, you been brokeSoon as these Blocc niggaz find out ya M-O that`s all she wroteCause Blocc niggaz don`t fuck wid nut riders we rough ridersGlock `til they call me the truck driverI drive bodies down I-5 a, insane you`s a damn shameYou don`t sell a damn thang to hoes, here`s ya damn fame niggaSee you`s the same niiga that used to lick on the ballsAnd hum when I had `em in ya jaws ask D-EI wrap CD cases and put `em on the shelfI told you motherfuckas I`ll gi` you a lil` helpCause if I really had funk wid you, I wouldn`t say shitJust spray shit, come get you, ya done dizzleAll I gotta do is whistle and here comes the troopsSiccmade niggaz stompin` in steel toe bootsWe get paid quicker I know it hurts but it`s the truthPretty motherfucka I take out ya toothEither that or watch the Uzi shake out the roofHow you want it?, like Burger King I`m murderin` and his womanTrust me, it get tough out hereMotherfuckers could end up in a trunk out hereCan you feel it?Hook

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Brotha Lynch Hung f Cos - Art of War
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