Текст песни Channel Live f Method Man - Armaghetto
Channel Live f Method Man - Armaghetto слова песни
* send corrections directly to the typist[Method Man]Yeah ha.. we vibin`Channel livin` all day ha c`monYo its me the m-e-t-h uh o-d????Sniff a whole keyMy coke deepBe my consciouss tellin me it dont make senseThen guard his nonsenseA niggas best defense is his offenseSo yo I watch po poAnd duck a dodoBirdies in them gogo`sTrying to steal my mojoOh no your`e fuckin with a proWho go for doloFor sure thoughA season veteran holy a (dobo???)Come on now judge judyYoure televised through our visionWhile I black you get imprisonedWhen my eyes see through your eyesYour hypnotizedSubconsciously you change the station to channel liveThat underground hard-core sound who said it`d dieCause if it is me and my nine`sThe first to rideFor my niggasLive by the fire die by the flameHappy im gone knowin my son`s gonna be the sameAs his dough-diggy dog thatWho put his feelings on a pamphletA pen unleash the dragon again uhIm on ya like hot grease on a skilletGorillas on real tv because they feel us[Verse 2]I`m livin like a hundred in a jeep stolenWools in sheeps clothngAll beef frozenBust like cheap trojansNautrally rollin blunts and weed smokinWe keep chokinBitches on they knees openI spit like a automatic semi barking partAnd if you hear me starin blame the remmy martinSo liquor shots ghetto peopleDutches and c-lo`s duckin the repoFor fuckin them lady c-o`sRhymes blind devine (evol??)Smoked out in the cadillac regalWith a mommy on my beechoTheres eight million storiesOnly six million ways to dieTheres two million niggas getting away with crimeTheres two million more whack niggas tryin to rhymeNow theres four million niggas tryin to eat at one timeIt keeps the thugs gunnin in the blood runninAnd the judge frontinEnough to make nigga touch something[Chorus]Niggas fuckin with that strick-nineThe models get mineSo we gonna be big timeIts ghetto buisnessNiggas jack cars and rap starsRockin the cash barsBitches dancin naked on their lapIts ghetto buisnessNiggas hold gunsHot ones steakin` the biscutGhetto nigga soft cores is ghetto businessYo, drinks and weed sonNever seeds sonI got what you need sonIts all ghetto business[Verse 3]Yo this is for the senileWalking on the green mileMy lyrics be like the spirit of a teen gone wildShit is after ten bitch wheres your childWith a nine in his pocket lockin it down like penileI did the knowledge to bornYour style straight cornI woke up in the morningHeard your shit and just yawnedYou fuckin up my highNo lieYou can die??????????????Before i break you up like godYo its the herb slinger