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Cru

Goines Tale

  hip-hop  ambient  rap  classic hip-hop  def jam
600 3 часа назад

Текст песни Cru - Goines Tale

Cru - Goines Tale слова песни

[Chadio]Yo,this joint right hereis dedicatedto the infamous, late greatDonald Goinesword life, C-R-U, Cru representaion"Black Girl Lost" her pop is "Daddy Cool"Former "Dopefiend" now a pimp, damn foolHe`s a "Black Gangster", "Inner City Hoodlum"Phat prankster, must admit a pretty good oneBut little do he know he on a "Death List" and shitThis`ll be "Kenyatta`s Escape", "Kenyatta`s Last Hit""Crime Partners" he and Ken` wasTill one day they spark that traum up and got a buzzSaid he heard Kenyatta had phoned his wifeSo, he shot him over this rumor, tried to take his lifePromised Kenyatta would "Never Die Alone"So he went home, and shot his wife while she was on the phoneShot her in the head and then she lay deadPimp jeted in his "Eldorado Red"Kenyatta didn`t die he would "Cry Revenge"Wouldn`t stop till he saw the pimp`s dead endPimp went to whore house to see his "Street Players"Collect all the doe cause yo that`s what the game isPimps called "Swamp Man" cause he`s like a MunsterViolent in the street ever since he was a youngsterSee you was a "Whoreson", son of a whoreAnd from this the violent mental scars we woreForgot about Kenyatta thought Kenyatta was ghostWhile doin what he gotta tryin to make the mostAnd for those two shootins, he never got caughtSmart man ended up in the new house he boughtKen` found out with the quickness where he livedWritten the address then went up the cribOoze and vest he ain`t festSprayed his rest, shit is best to put that pimp to the testSix months later Ken` was backInstead of an ooze this time he had a mack in his backpackYawnin, in the wee hours of the morninPimps` known to leave his whorehouse at dawninThere he is, suddenly appearsNuthin in his hand except a six-pack of Heiniken beersSteps out the bushes, the trigger he pushesHits up "Swamp Man" and mad blood gu-shesFills him with lead, puts the last in his headThen slides, "Swamp Man" lay deadRuns up a few blocks there go the copsThey must have heard the RAT-A-TAT-pops of the shotsHis mind`s racin wonderin what he shouldGive up or say, "Fuck It!", and spray the cops tooStops in his tracks and bends down to kneelShe been shot before yo he know how it feelsHe drops his gun, and with it the beefNow a "White Mans Justice Black Mans Grief"

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