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Текст песни Daz Dillinger and JT the Bigga Figga f C - Long Beach 2 Fillmoe

Daz Dillinger and JT the Bigga Figga f C - Long Beach 2 Fillmoe слова песни

[ VERSE 1: JT The Bigga Figga ]We play hardball, runnin these streets in different routesMake the paper count, stuffed in the couch, we got cloutAll I talk about is cheddar-chasin, we in the JetsIn a parking lot in a bubble goose rockin a vestSo we mean-muggin, whole trunk full of goodiesBurner gloves, Timbos, Levis and the hoodiesI`m in and out of B-210, juice & ginCrack the window when you smokin them bidi`s, pass the HenOverdrive in the passenger side, my niggas rideFor the westside, 415, ????By the look in his eyes, you never been around the block thoughBustin off rounds or crack dealin to keep it hot toughDancin with the shift, get skirtin, illegal motionStoppin for the cops and it`s curtains, so keep coastinWhen they dust for prints ain`t no punks in thisAnd if they ever bring the drama get the pumps for this[ CHORUS: Cosmo ]We ain`t got shit to lose but much to gainWe young thugs who done felt much painDrug dealers who touched caineStuck in the game like `fuck fame`Makin weak cats tuck they chainsAin`t nothin changed[ VERSE 2: Killa Tay ]I serve a punk quick like Serena and VenusFoul language, broken English, but my style`s the cleanestI was born on the East but I reside on the WestOfficially Supernatural, so I ride to the deathExpress my plans to my fans, put my spirit in lyricsEternal threats after a mic check, let the whole world hear itThey call me Mister Mafioso, the one and only Runnin a mob, gettin the job done, no love for the phoneysI`m representin WCM to the fullest, my niggaPullin strings like a trigger, posted up with the stigmaI lay my hat somewhere in ???? protectin my family My homies ain`t understandin me cause they live in a fantasyI got deep ties and I`ll keep wise, respect from the West to the EastsideThese gees ride just to put it down in my British Knights and my LevisBut now we all O.G., livin casual, ready to travelAin`t no equal to this God Mob crew, who wanna battle?[ CHORUS: Cosmo ][ VERSE 3: Cosmo ]We livin in the last days where gats sprayHittin cats from blocks awayCrooked cops tryin to stop the payThey think we rockin lleyTryin to monitor the ways that we operateCause we won`t cooperateWe stay large, we break jawbones and get our ball onOn the block hustlin dope till it`s all goneI`m almost all grown, I got a .380 Beretta and it`s all chromeI know I`m all wrong for all the thug livin and drug dealinI put my ears to the streets but all I`m hearin is these slugs peelinWhen they come killin ain`t no words fo`All you seein is beanies, black pistols and herb smokeDirty money wrapped in rubberbandsYoung killas dyin over scrilla, I heard he went out over a hundred grandPenitentiary cells blocksIs full of young thugs who ain`t got no choice but to sell rocksI know my future was planned for me to succeedI`d die to see my homie G-Spot and mama live freeA lotta suckers wanna get me, plottin on seein meDead, got they glocks aimed for my kidneys[ CHORUS: Cosmo ]

Другие песни Daz Dillinger and JT the Bigga Figga f C:

Daz Dillinger and JT the Bigga Figga f C - Long Beach 2 Fillmoe
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