Текст песни DMX f Ja Rule, Method Man, Nas, Vita - Grand Finale (Murda Mix), слова песни DMX f Ja Rule, Method Man, Nas, Vita

Текст песни DMX f Ja Rule, Method Man, Nas, Vita - Grand Finale (Murda Mix)

DMX f Ja Rule, Method Man, Nas, Vita - Grand Finale (Murda Mix) слова песни

[Vita]If ain`t rough, it ain`t meTales of the darkside, grand finale[Ja Rule]Ready to die, cuz only I know where it`s inAnd if lie to dough, then it`s kill in my soulFor my love and dough, don`t make it no betterMami, don`t flirt wit the iron and hit `em whoeverA nigga that flips the weather, any Rule, J-AFuck wit me, it`s Murda, I-N-CFeel her, nigga, feel a hole to meet(if it ain`t rough, it ain`t me)Holla at me, my real niggas, get down, ready to kill niggasWe don`t touch no more, we kill niggasGive me what it takes to throw my guns togetherFast up, hit `em up, towards the hot berettaYou should know better, when obviously they don`tSo the shit, sure to get you one in your throatBy the time, you realize that shot`s the truthIt`s too late, they reminiscin` over you, my Lord[Method Man]Watch them young guns that take none, nobody safe fromThe Friday, the 13th, ghetto JasonItchy trigger finger achin`, snatch your ass out that S-Class for fakin`Forty four blast, it`s a bloobath, take your first step down a thug pathAin`t no love here, just slugs here, kids know the half, you get plugged hereThat`s just impossile, for the weak to last, now behold the unstoppableThird eye watchin` you, watchin` meThrowin` rocks from the penalty box, cop a pleaYoung g, we was born to die, don`t cry for meJust keep the heat closely, and ride for meCuz we family, for better or worse, you and IFrom the dirt, you snatch purse, so hard it hurtTo be here, and each year, I`m pourin` out some beerFor deceased peers, holdin` fortPolice line, do not cross, they found his corpseIn the loft, wit the head cut off, and butt nakedHomicide, the crime method, add anotherKiller verse to the murder record, the grand finale[Nas]Hot corners, cops wit warrants, every block is boringFriday night, gettin` bent, lick a poemMy dog, not even home a month yet, and blaze a girlin the stomach, he robbin niggaz who pumpinLil` Blood got popped, by the Group Home catEverybody nervous in the hood, pullin they gatsFiend yellin out, who got those? Go and seeshorty snot-nosed, he don`t floss but he got doughThug faces, fugitives runnin from court casesSlugs shootin past for the love of drug paperQueens cap peelers, soldiers, drug dealersAnd God`ll throw a beam of lightning down cause he feel usMay the next one, strike me down if I`m not the realestThe Mayor wanna call the SWAT team to come and kill usbut, dogs are friends, if one see the morgue, one`ll liveto get revenge, and we ride to the endBravehearts blow the lye with Henn, and still riseTook alive with live men, my man got three six-to-eighteen`sand only five in, the Belly of the beast Didn`t wanna hear the shitI tried to tell him on the streetsIt`s irrelevant, the beast love to eat black meatAnd got us niggaz from the hood, hangin off his teethWe slangin to eat, bringin the heatBulletholes, razor scars is the pain in the street, huh[Chorus: Vita]If it ain`t rough, it aint` meDown for dice, is what you told meIf it ain`t rough, it ain`t meSee, chick from the other side, grand finale[Vita]My dogs for life, call for life, now who be the job like fuck TottiSlim weight, petite, body, down for my niggas, quick to pull a shottySprayin` everybody, lacin` the whole partyHoldin` wall when my niggas hung, wit I rushLike boys that I do know, it`s me I trustNow watch how I tie bust, guarantee I be sittin` downWaitin` to hear up, wit the blastGot you niggas snitchin` weed in my stash, high flowOver the bitch who knows to stash weedCold for you bitches who try to oppose meHot Totti, same chick in BellyOoh, if it ain`t it ain`t me[DMX]Uhh, I`ve lost my grip on reality or so it would seemPinch myself to wake up, cause I KNOW it`s a dreamNiggaz that don`t know me see me and think I`ma rob emNiggaz that know me well see me and think I`ma problemI`m just a nigga that`s misunderstoodBut word to God I turn your last name to UnderwoodCause if I see it, I`ma take it and run with it, that`s meWhat type of bullshit is this nigga on? That`s DThe dog come and getcha outsideThe more blood flows, when I plug holes with the snub nosedGun blows, bullets whistle, wouldn`t miss youHit you all up in your mouth like it tried to kiss youDrama, it`s right here, how MUCH YOU NEED?Beat you down with gat see how MUCH YOU BLEEDHow MUCH YOU PLEAD, for your life, you was a killerAnd all the bitches comin up out that ass you feelin, gettin realerNow beg for your life, one more time, one more crimeone more nine, c`mon cry niggaIt`s over! This is the shit, that hits hardYou either the last one standing, or the last one to fall

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Grand Finale (Murda Mix)

Текст песни DMX f Ja Rule, Method Man, Nas, Vita - Grand Finale (Murda Mix)

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