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Текст песни Children of the Corn (Killah Cam`Ron, Bl - Harlem Nights

Children of the Corn (Killah Cam`Ron, Bl - Harlem Nights слова песни

[Bloodshed]Yo, I`m mad vexed, give me your addressAnd I`ll deliver, stand and watch you shiverAs the bullets travel through your liverThis nigga bloodshed is mad roughBattling me is like jumping inside a river while you`re handcuffedMy fist is more nastier than Travel FoxMy silhouette inside intensive care, because I like to shadowboxMy gat makes more noise then Roman candlesI stay in murder scandles, and dust the fingerprints of burner handlesAnd I left Jehovah slain, I don`t cry over painCause I puff fat dimes of novacaineMurder astrologist, mad cases of manslaughterI rape this man`s daughter, then put the shit on cam corderPut it for sale on 2-5th and 8thHer pops tried to flex and bass, then the tech correctand spit in his face, her brother dice tried to get shiestSo I took his life, with a knife, then asked him twice about his fucking son and wifeAfter that, I load the gat and let the lead start flyingThat shit is death defying, now you need dental records to identify himI had beef with this Priest his name was father ClydeThis how he died, I had seven put on his side, and fulled him with formaldehydeI get more high then frequencies, no one gets ass deep as meYour worst nightmare, don`t sleep on me [Chorus]"It ain`t where you`re form it`s where you at" - RakimSo when you walk through Harlem faggot watch your back"It ain`t where you`re from it`s where you at" - RakimSo when you walk through Harlem faggot watch your back [Cam`Ron]Yo, I`m a cat with 9 live, but everyday I risk themPop shots the glock at the cop and missed him now he`s all up in the systemUpstate, buying for crime, slaving the timeMy mother down here praying for mineCause I`m like Snider, living one day at a timeHarlem`s a rough route, get snuffed out in a tough boutThe streets is full of smoking guns from people getting puffed outI scrap them like a sculpture, living out my fucking cultureMy crews a bunch of vultures with the .38s and holstersAnd I quick to hurt a fool, cause money got that murder pullAnd don`t leave my house without the guns, mask and surgicalsDon`t tell me how I act and sound, I pack a mack and poundAnd strap them down to clap them clowns, I never seen a cap and gownand I`m a basketcase, I`ll bash your face, and blast your waistIn a casket trace, cause me and this bastard Mase, drop at a tragic placeCause uptown it ain`t nothing sweet, it`s just guns a griefTons of beef, and little niggaz run the streetsAnd pop the boots for lots of lootEven sell a cop a deuce, on top of roofsBut be careful cause the glocks is looseAnd I`ma choke you like a capsule, niggaz wanna scrap? BoatAnd I`ma end the shit on that note [Chorus]"It ain`t where you`re form it`s where you at" - RakimSo when you walk through Harlem faggot watch your back"It ain`t where you`re from it`s where you at" - RakimSo when you walk through Harlem faggot watch your back[Big L]My click is quick to pull a bullet through a stranger`s domeYou should`ve known not to roam through the danerzoneIn Harlem is where the thugs restIn a slugfest, we sending faggots "All the Way to Heaven" like Doug FreshBig L grow up in the slums of greedI`m known for drawing guns with speed, and selling tons of weedCause I got sons to feedAnd it`s a must that I commence to slainAny faggot MC that goes against the grainAnd I`ma smoke Pataki`s ass and Rudolph Giuli` like a WoolieKeep a toolie for any moolie who act fooleySo if a nigga disrespect L, to hell is where I`m send themAfter I skin him, And spit some venenom in himRun with introduers, looters and sharpshootersWho spark buddah and fuck thick bitches with large hootersBeat niggaz with lead pipes, leave trails of dead micsCause where I`m from niggaz jewels get run like red lightsOld folks get mugged and raided, crimes are drug relatedAnd we live by the street rules the thugs createdClowns get smoked about a thousand voltsSo front and get a tech shoved down your throat

Другие песни Children of the Corn (Killah Cam`Ron, Bl:

Children of the Corn (Killah Cam`Ron, Bl - Harlem Nights
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