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Текст песни D.I.T.C. f Big Punisher, Milano - Where Ya At

D.I.T.C. f Big Punisher, Milano - Where Ya At слова песни

[Big Punisher]Aiyyo it`s funny dunnThe two nicest niggas unite as oneCollide the sun wit the moon, BOOM!!I leave you brighted fromMy full of clips, hawk the world into hell when a bullet spitCrucifix myself to the sun, now who you wit?Enter my world of doom, consume fear and feel the panicI ram a lightning bolt between the earth and moonAnd curl the planetsI`m ?palanatic? wit lyrics spannin for galaxiesBattle me, mathematically, I`m givin your wisdom a cavityRapidly flowin, controllin the timeFlip over the line, I`m blowin your mind wit just a flow and a rhymeI`m Hogan in his prime, strong and fastYou can bomb and blast, c`mon, you`ll still be on your assIt`s satisfaction guaranteedWit Fiction like Quentin Tarantin`Kickin your baddest dreams, shit you haven`t seenI have to be perfectly honestYou should have an anniversary to acknowledge the way I work the ebonicsI verbally vomit on how much niggas try to get usWith garbage lyrics, my style delivers it as the Outer LimitsI`m like the pyramids cuz every point is preciseNow you know me for lifeSix Pun, Cuban flooded wit iceChorus [Big Punisher] (Milano)If I ain`t home wit my fam (Where you at?)Stash crib, cuttin grams (Where you at?)Hung wit my niggas and we`re rollin and controllin, hold that!If I ain`t deep in some ass (Where you at?)I`m in the jeep wit the stash (Where you at?)Hung wit my niggas and we`re rollin and controllin, baby![Milano]Yo I camel-clutch mics, a truce gahzuntiteGuess I`m allergic when shit ain`t done rightYou spread disease while the vaccine is what I writeCouldn`t avoid this, sit tightAll aboard ship, on my voy-agePurple Explorers, seven warriors my auraYou tied a ? and boredom, Milan bring more than offerHigh exalted, boned a Lazarus scultptorYou penny-weight styleWhile my piece alone around three poundsI had to serve nerds, and throw it down, stuck for a reasonLaid up a whole season, pen and pad style Honeymooners like Jack GleasonBlessin the whole reasonUntil my niggas max out, hold the axe outWhoever front, saw the procedureAll you thugs now wit misdemeanorsI seen ya`ll in clubs, poppin Zima Fake minks wit ninety percent of it beaverThought you was killin em?I played the back wit two dime BraziliansCogniac and ice buckets, puttin a slight chill to themRock platinum like I sold a millionTrapped on my island like GilliganReally, Manhattan niggas here, you gotta feel emIt ain`t hard, sent to Parkwest HallStraight up the Malcom BoulevardWit no bars, I write scripturesMe on beats is a fatal attraction when I give you the businessCaught a dough virus for spittin sick shitGot niggas like "Who is this?"On this `99 classical editionChorus

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