Текст песни Erick Sermon f 1129, Redman - Future Thug
Erick Sermon f 1129, Redman - Future Thug слова песни
[Verse One: Erick Sermon]Aiyyo everybody hands upRun yo` bling bling, nigga boy stand upIt`s E-Dub, whassup?Yeah I`m bouncin, large amounts of cash we countinThat stand tall like mountainsTo bring the drama, it takes a second man (that`s it)One wrong move, "Bring the Pain" like Method ManIt`s your boyDamnit, it`s the Bandit, new Hummer in transitTwenty-seven inches come standard (YO!)This my people, whether drivin the Benz, the PintoOr the Regal, the Range Rover, the Beatle (uh)I`m in New York now but I represent the SWATS of A-TownWhen I touch down amid groundsMe and L-Dub and Redman, that`s it mo`fuckahYou heard what I said man, that`s real (what the deal)It`s E-Dub, pronounce it rightEyes green like Kryptonite, so good night![Chorus]What y`all want? Y`all want this?We give it to ya, we future thugsWe up in yo` crib like, we up in yo` club likeWe up in yo` hood like, we future thugs[Verse Two: 11/29]Where niggaz be thinkin the, Cadillac`s on 23`sBitch bring with the DVD`s, old school bucket seatsSouth Memphis to College P, Decatur to N.Y.C.Top droppin that Benz `til it, came with the leather seatBack up off my whip or I jump out and cause a tragedySt. Louis to Florida, from N.Y. to TennesseeThem boys ride 20`s, them niggaz from the hayThem boys flickin Bentleys, Benz, Lex and EscaladesThem boys ride clean, twist and turnin in yo` faceWith that chameleon paint, fresh as {?}I pull up in a fo`-fo`-two with E-DubWith a convertible top on the Chevy, we like whatDef Squad in this piece, you want it we give it to yaYou don`t want no trouble with me, I might do yaAnd tear the club up with E-Dub and that nigga {*bang*}Better respect my gangsta I stay with two Rugers[Chorus][Verse Three: Redman]Yo, I ain`t a thug but I do thug things nigga so hold me downForty round, caliber spitter, that`s how the shorty crownRun with gordy hounds for 40 miles then ignore me nowDuck +Motowns+ than Barry Gordy found, sorry clown!Super future thug, 12 shoe shoot you through the rugJames Bond, watch on my arm, tellin me who to truckMy God`s my gun, don`t need him since cerebreal cockBeat him size ammo three to five mammal we the Godsthat`ll shit on your turf, that`ll get in your skirtI heard Alicia, so my dick give what a woman is worthI make them niggaz blow... then hide `em inside `emMy noggin is strange when them dogs is ridinCause I`ma, cheap fucker, street usher, eat supper withpack of wolves that act a fool, blood on they upper lipNeed a nigga, I`m that nigga to call, nigga to drawchainsaws to the brawl, cuttin ya ligaments off[Chorus]