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Текст песни DJ KaySlay f Bun B, Hak Ditty, Joe Budde - Coast to Coast Gangstas

DJ KaySlay f Bun B, Hak Ditty, Joe Budde - Coast to Coast Gangstas слова песни

[Sauce Money](*Laughing*) BrooklynThis is the set-offKay SleezyTake it to the streets niggaWord upSauce MoneyUh, uhProper set-offDon`t get it fucked up cuz Sauce calm wit his grandmaCuz I`m like baking soda bitch, I`m armed with a hammerAnd when I`m strapped fool, fuck your brotherCuz like Jimmy Ivene in Virginia you in the scope like a muthafuckaFine, niggas don`t wanna let him shineNiggas hate that fact Sauce don`t give a fuckin` nineSoon as he ran his mouth, one tre pound seven to nineGuess who`s the odd man outI guess we got something in commonI`m just a little more calm whenI`m about to split your arm inPut a hole so big in your nogginThat if you God body, you can fit the whole sun, moon and star inYou starvin` for more lyrics I knowSteady robbin` all them lyrics I flowI`m Sadam-ing all you niggas fo shoYou betta know I`m a true nigga, please do niggaBetta inquire from a few niggasCuz bitch, I done shit on quite a few and quieted a few niggasGet a grip, dead four-fifth in the hipSlip, never picture me fallin` nigga don`t trip[Killer Mike]Stoned is the way of my walkIn a mini-mack eleven, the tone when I talkWhen I spray niggas pray, lay on the sidewalkColor blood red, body outlined in chalkMy rhymes, two zigs all ninesHard hit when they spit, split wigs double timeThis eightball`s a strict nineTear apart body parts when I spark nineAt they head hard lodged in they damn spineLeaves emcee`s like Christopher Reeves, crippled and cryin`Shittin` in a bag and a breath away from dyin`Nigga I`m - the epitomy of raw rhymesThe epitomy of rap rockI make a block party bop to the sounds of a hot glockFrom New York down to Georgia it don`t stopKiller Kill from Addamsville with a hot glockBlaaat![Bun B]They say murder is the case they wanna throw meI guess these muthafuckas don`t know meO.G. rock called a yay slangerVA`s finestUnderground muthafuckin` king call me "Your Highness"I tear your sinus with this gun powderWipe your tears with the steal, no fear this is real niggasHere is the deal: you clear in this fieldAnd ain`t stoppin` until every hater here is revealedCuz we don`t need no fuckin` clearance to peelOr shortstoppers runnin` and the fear is revealedSo - get off this block homie handle your cornerKeep all your heroin, rocks and you mariju-wanaI`m like a - character on the Sopranos or the WireYou`se a - big pussy lil` man, it`s over, retireCuz the - clock`s tickin`, your days is doneBut we know all them lil` different fuckin` ways you slumBut it`s trill downtown, your momma`s all freeYour house is sugar-layin` with your wife and your seedYes indeed, Big Bun is on a home invasionYou gon` bleed on my gun from your dome abrasionsCuz my chrome is blazin`, I`m naughty crunkGot the bop gun like Sir Nose D`VoiddoffunkBitch, I pull a sawed-off from under the waistOpen your eyes muthafucka, you got thunder to faceFuck rest, we gon` lay these muthafuckas to wasteYou bit the pully nigga tell me, how the fuck did it tasteFrom my gun...Big guns, big powerM. Woods, sixth hourBerettas, Tauruses, RugersSmith and Wesson`s, glocks and lugersAK`s, AR 15`sMack elevens and M-16`sHigh caliber, so why try it?You live by it, so you die by itA muthafuckin` gun...[WC]Who`s the man with the strap in his handHomie`s stolen semi-autos and contrabandsAll day every day, crossin` my hood in dayIn a six-trey with my nigga Kay SlayDub the law scan, the infrared scannerHangin` out the window, hittin` em up with the bandanaAnd I can`t stand a snitch so I - clean the lidJust in case them bitch niggas wanna sing with thisI stay on the trigger, cuz lames hate me niggaThey can`t pay me nigga, where my lay dates niggaWhere AK one-on-one so thirty shotNine millimeter Melindas aimed ready to send yaSo put your can on your vest like a Bible and pray slowlyCuz this`ll leave your teflon holeyWith the forty glock ready to ring, bring the trauma to the sceneIt`s the Ghetto Heisman and the Drama King[Joe Buddens]It`s about that time nine-milli clappin`Dude, what`s really crackin`?I been gettin` it since `Paid In Full` was really happenin`I gotta do it like that to keep my street nameAnd pride made me kill Wayne Growe when the heat cameI don`t smut but stimulation is goodI keep the hammer with me, Joey`s renovatin` the hoodDifference between us, I`m gettin` loot on toursGood shoes on the Beem, you got a boot on yoursDudes with no names wanna put an end to meBut doggs, I`m readin` between the lines, the whole game`s in parenthesisTalk about models and how you with somethin`When you really shootin` air balls, you ain`t hittin` nothin`Nathan, through the strip, O.G.`s blazin`Street niggas slowly hatin` on Joey so amazin`And hood niggas knowin` what upEither holdin` you down or holdin` you up, throwin` it upOh![Hak Ditty]Aiiyo, fuck the dumb shit, when the guns spitOne clip`ll have your whole strip laid downThirty-two shots to your block, I had that shit caged downAnd before you blink, I let off eight roundsThis the ro-yal I ain`t playin`I`m takin` this over, so y`all either layin` or dyingAnd I won`t hesitate to blaze the ironYou cocksuckers is chillin` with a ragin` lionI see them dudes every day, when I`m racin` by `emOr on the curb poppin` bottles while they hatin` and eyein`Uh, whether the slider or the highriderI keep my block rocker, glock under the blue dosserFar as Philly, it`s no question to who`s liverI`m hotter, Hak Ditty, block lockerFully preparedI hope y`all fully aware that y`all niggas got a problem this year(*Gunshots*)

Другие песни DJ KaySlay f Bun B, Hak Ditty, Joe Budde:

DJ KaySlay f Bun B, Hak Ditty, Joe Budde - Coast to Coast Gangstas
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