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Текст песни Erick Sermon f Redman, Tre - Street Hop

Erick Sermon f Redman, Tre - Street Hop слова песни

[Nas sample - repeat 2X]This ain`t rappin, this is street hopNow get up off yo` (ass) like yo` seats hot[Erick Sermon]Yeah, Redman uh, E. Sermon, Tre[Verse One: Redman]Yeah, yoI`m Doc, Brick City, know how I rockI`m hip-hop, I live up in the rim shopI blow out my tires then I buy some mo`My car`s Ying Yang`n the way it sit LOWWA little Anita, a little VandrossI got two guns to give you secondhand smokeI`m no joke, this ain`t Hanna BarberaIt`s the Bricks, Mandela on AnterasIn my rear mirror, a freak approachKnew she wasn`t first class cause her bag was CoachShe was like, "Redman! Buy me boots."So I, bought her Timbs, and a army suitNobody want it with Doc, you smell me Duke?Front page, smokin L`s in The Daily NewsY`all cats big time, but the tops are turnedWhen you in the same realm as, Doc and Serm`, yeahhh[Chorus: repeat 2X]"This ain`t rappin, this is street hop Now get up off yo` (ass) like yo` seats hot"(And if the record is hot say one two) one two (one two)[Verse Two: Erick Sermon]Yeah, yeah, yo, uhhE-Dub in the flesh, no replacementI still bring trunk funk from the basement (who are you?)Peeeimp MC, my style`s mackadociousBoy, ask her-on who the dopestE - steppin to me, better-a think twiceI`m nice, the outcome be "The Passion of Christ"You get ripped, you ain`t equipped to rock with the vandal(Yeah) I change your Timberlands to sandalsThug MC`s, thinkin they hardWhen they walk around the block with 6 bodyguardsYo, I`m a big dawg (grrr) you a pup (arf!)It`s like comparin a car to a truckWhat, you spend dough for airplay when you networkThat ain`t fair, that ain`t the way the street workThis is street hop, nuttin about prideFor you, I`ma keep them ambulances outside, you dig?[Chorus][Erick Sermon]All them rappers that can`t rhyme (can`t rhyme)What is you doin is a crimeSayin that garbage all the time{*chk-chk-BOOM*} Word up, yeah[Verse Three: Tre]That`s how I`m livin, still a gangsta, still a pimpin mackAll around hustler, 9 to 5 flippin crackTryin to stay up out of prison, steady spittin rapsNot to mention spittin scraps, don`t mix your puddy-tat with that{*meowww*} Dhark Citi, put it on your mapDon`t ride through without your pistol, put it on your lapAnd I don`t look for beef but don`t think that I won`t attackHave you in a coffin momma like, "He don`t belong in that"You shoulda thought of that before the factWhy a (nigga) roll the dice, lose all they money, then they want it back?But that`s a bunch of crap..... but f`real jyo, don`t gamble witcha life, cause ain`t no comin back[Chorus] - repeat to fade

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Erick Sermon f Redman, Tre - Street Hop
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