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Текст песни Doomsday Productions f Brotha Lynch Hung - Black Market

Doomsday Productions f Brotha Lynch Hung - Black Market слова песни

[Talking]The year is 1994Black Market Records, 2001 Records, and Doomsday ProductionsCombined forces to create an unfadable clickMake way for the hounds of the undergroundFeel the fury, hahhaahaha[PIT]I put my hands in my pocketsThey jiggle cus they fulla change,Sometimes bein broke`ll make ya fall astrayBut I got a better grip on myselfSo I avoid gettin played short like a elfBust her side bust her in the headThat white ? yoke come runnin out his neckI`m tryin to stack a grip so dont let me hit this dankCus if I hit this dank, I`ma shoot me a bitchFuck it, *puff*, bang bang,Five minutes later, the cops cameI`m settin up shop for the black marketSo if I aim at your mark-ass youre a targetTold you that I`d come but I came insaneBorn braincell killas, scramblin niggas brainsIf you gotta go you gotta go I like the six-foI`m pullin GTA`s, it aint yo`s no mo`Then I take it and strip it down and leave nothin but the frameThen I`m gonna sell my cousin the gold thangsPop a burn and turn it over like a flapjackMo money mo money for black market[Chorus] X 4On the black market, yeeeaah[Eklypss]Creepin move with swiftness in the darkAnd aint no stoppin, once a nigga startIt aint nothin new, up under the sun for days and daysUnder the moon, is where I was born and raisedAnd doomed for life, nigga this aint no daylightI love it, murderin muthafuckas in the nightA Doomsta ready to make his mark an underground targetHooked up with black market now peepShit gets deeper and deeper, meet meThe doomstown grim reaper, and PITPlatinum, Mister Doctor Lynch HungWe do your ass in good just for funFifteen inches in your ass bitchTake it and love it, but I aint talking bout no dick14 suns and moons, somethin you can assumeThat on the 15th marks my day for doomBuck em and fuck em with doomsday productionsEklypss`ll trip if I catch you fuckin with my gripYoull find your ass dead in a graveyardAnd I`ma continue on my ?[Brotha Lynch Hung]Well if you see me chewin baby guts locc, would ya chokeor vomit when that teflon pierce that baby`s throat?Peep me eatin dead cottYa trip cause eatin dead pussy clit, I`ll make ya sickBut its that season so my reason is legitI`m havin fits, I`ve dreamed of eatin bloody pussy clit since I was 6I fiend for dead pussy on my dick, I got the schitzMeanin I dont give a shit about yo biatchThat nigga that`s from the block killin off that cottSo nigga, sheeeit; baby barbeque ribs and guts, and uhDon`t let me get to deep fryin baby nutsSluts, get ate out like a ? them crooked teeth hurtI pull that tampax string out and straight put in workIt wouldnt work without the sickSo page a nigga quick so I can serve you some of that shitAnd have you murderin your biatch, violentlyI`ve been keyed for 20 minutes and feel like killinLoadin that milli-milli its that infant killaNigga Lynch, Mr. Doc, D-O double M and hella heatNiggas unload, I need another dose of human meatI live to creep, and black market death by the sceneAs that nigga that nigga that nine millimeter punch you in yo spleen[Chorus] X 4[Mr. Doctor]You lay yo eyes up on my 4-4And notice every curve in my strapAs them tears roll downFlash yo life as ya fade to blackIf that gat wasnt all up in yo faceReminisce of yo folks, yo bitch, yo kids, yo fateReplace, take it down to the soul, get deepThink of moms at your funeral locc, and all ya familyHuh, its kind of crazy you could lose all of these things so quickAnd whats worse, nigga shot you for the fuck of it, yeahNever know I`d be the one to have your life in my hand[Brotha Lynch: That Ruger 4-4 Mac]That niggas life wont lastKeep listenin while I guide right down into your throatDig that barrel in your neck, watch your bitch-ass chokeNo hope, no joke, Im savin you the pain of old ageAll I ask for is yo muthafuckin grip in exchangeOne to the brain, in the throat out the skullFrom the big chrome gat, peeled cap, release your soulNow ya niggas know, one mo dead muthafucka on the streetFo the Mista Doc, loccStraight to the brain with St. Ides brewThe black market dealt murder when they serve them foo`s[Chorus] X 4

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Doomsday Productions f Brotha Lynch Hung - Black Market
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