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Текст песни C-Bo and Brother Lynch f Spice 1, Yukmou - Don`t Stop

C-Bo and Brother Lynch f Spice 1, Yukmou - Don`t Stop слова песни

[Talking - C-Bo]First off we the mutha fuckin Thug LordsNow for all you niggas bangin, that mutha fuckin West Coast like nigga?YouknowhatI`msayin? And fa sho no lie29th Street Crip Gang nigga, C-Bo holdin nothin backYukmouth, Spice 1 and we do it live, for the world it`s still fuck offYou know what and we in that you knowhatI`msayin?And this how we handle business, niggaFrom the early 80`s to these 2 G`s, boy[C-Bo]Huh, We blaze em up with AK`s, double my clip and we dipSet trip and get hit, flip Crip or get zippedRun with the Crips, catch me clumsy in the 66 rag invertable slide divertable, murder yaDead and gone never heard of yaNow we stuffin lead in the crome, bout to hurt yaPack ya down in the earth, we put work in like Mad DirtOdainers twistin like the revolver or the earthFuck church, it`s a must I burst and curseYeah I`m a West Coast Bad Boy but a thousand times worstDime piece, gun in her purse, one in her skirtCross me, bet ya life that my bitch burstGot me lockin down the world for the North PoleToo cold to hold lyrics froze my wrist and my hoesNumber one Thug Lord, fuck wit us!I won`t lie the whole world gonna rush wit us, tell em[Chorus - Yukmouth and Spice 1]Thug Lord niggas boss up and don`t stopThugged out niggas boss up and don`t stopThug Lord niggas boss up and don`t stopThugged out niggas boss up and don`t stopBlow! Blada baba bo, blada baba bang bangSpice, Yuk and Bo we do the damn thangBlow! Blada baba bo, blada baba bang bangThug Lord niggas we do the damn thang[Spice 1]Nigga you listenin to the B-O-S-S-I-L-I-N-IYukmouth and C-Bo you know they label us born to dieBut I pistol slap you and two niggas like 3 StoogesWalk over to the bar and sip on Gin and juiceIt`s just the gangster in me, the thug in meMug in me and get yo fro pushed back like homieYou lil clown ass nigga walkin in bozo shoesWhile my niggas out here doin hits, makin the newsWhat you think you gon` dodge these bullets like Matrix?Like a condom, I even lay teck on a bitchNow that`s some cold shit, a low lick, a cold hitLeave a nigga at a funeral cryin with no bitchSome Thug Lord shit nigga shoot up ya coffinNiggas cross game get murdered by bossesCost`s yo mutha fuckin life when you play with the rulesThey got a n-uh-nigga still singin the blues[Chorus - Yukmouth and Spice 1]Blow! Niggas boss up and don`t stopThugged out niggas boss up and don`t stopThugged out niggas boss up and don`t stopThugged out niggas boss up and don`t stopBlada baba bo, blada baba bang bangThug Lord niggas we do the damn thangBlow! Blada baba bo, blada baba bang bangSpice, Yuk and Bo we do the damn thang[Yukmouth]Bitch, next up to bat, Yukmouth destroy the earth with rapImagine pain worse than that, my niggas coppin birds of crackServin track, cock back and burst the gatI want my turf back, I hurt that, work that, twerk thatRolex speed spot like Joe PesciAK ready, we deadly, bitch!I`m like Hannibal, rector eat MC`s for breakfastI`m the hardest artist to sign to a label in TexasYes it`s that nigga with the platinum grill full of princessesInvisible set, straight up herbal molescentsIn less than 60 seconds I kill em leavin em breathlessDon`t fuck with bread, run outta state bit recordsWith chin checkers in Benz stretches who win cheddarWhen fakers scramble liquid hands on niggas with vindettasI`m like 10 fraredders bustin off at the same timePayed rhymes, I kick shit off when it`s game time[Spice 1]Blow! blow, blididat, blididat!Blow, blow, blididat, blididat, blididat!Blow, blow, blididat, blididatBlididat, blididat blalalalat!Blada baba bo, blada baba bang bangThug Lord niggas we do the damn thangBlow! Blada baba bo, blada baba bang bangSpice, Yuk and Bo we do the damn thang[Brother Lynch]I`m hittin niggas so hard with these you would need JesusBeleive these is yo last days I can see you cleavichThat`s why I`m fuckin you with the 9 millimeterAnd I feed a nigga with the heater, he was a long bleederAnd he taste good with fajitas, heat em up now eatMember me? Nigga that be eatin raw meatWith tiger claw feet so it`s easy to creepYou leave me no reason but to leave niggas bleedinRecieve grievence with extra Season of the SiccI pick em off like Brock MarionHe kept starin so I took care of him, shot him up with heroinLike malt liqour, to the liver hitter, to the river wit yaDip ya down deep, down deepWhere pirana heat they eat they meatHeat up they seats, they seats with metal from the Southside ghettoI swear I`ll make y`all mutha fuckas yellowTired of diggin ditches like the GoodFellowsNot good with mellow, I keep the meatKeep it hangin in the closet like pig feetDelete, come with the[Spice 1]Blow! Blalat! Blow, blow, blow blididatBlow! Blalalat! (ahah)Blow! Blididat, blididat!Blow, blow! Blalalalat! Blow (ahaha)Blow!

Другие песни C-Bo and Brother Lynch f Spice 1, Yukmou:

C-Bo and Brother Lynch f Spice 1, Yukmou - Don`t Stop
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