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Everlast

Whitey`s Revenge

  rock  hip-hop  alternative  blues  rap
470,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Everlast - Whitey`s Revenge

Everlast - Whitey`s Revenge слова песни

What?Did I hurt your feelings?Uh...I`m supposed to be scared now, right?Yo...I`d like to dedicate this record right hereTo Mr. Marshall Mathers` mother, yeahThis one`s for your momsHere come the mightyOne they call WhiteyAll you sons of WhiteyAre all dickbitersSo won`t that bitch Slim Shady please act up?Get smacked up, get your eyes blacked upWith your candy-ass name you`re a candy-ass rapperI`ll smack you up, shut you off like the ClapperWhoever said you was raw, son, they liedI know that shit I spit on Dilated hurt your prideScreamin` on a record how you wish I diedBut you don`t wanna see me on this physical sideYou`re just a big tough guy, tryin` to act hardBut you won`t walk a lobby without your bodyguardYou ain`t pullin` my card, you ain`t ridin` the trainBack in the day, kids like you got robbed for they chainStep to me like a man, with the hands, and get slainMatter of fact, when you see me, bitch, gimme some brainYo, it`s like that, we could fight, JackLet`s put the mics down, you`ll catch a beatdownI get love in New York, got fam in L.A.And I heard you might be the MC that`s gayWith your platinum blonde Caesar, you look like a hoLike M and M stands for Marilyn MonroeTalkin` `bout killin` sprees, you ain`t like that, yoMakin` lots of enemies, but that`s all for showYou punk ecstasy junkie, you waste of skillsStop ridin` my tails, stay high on pillsYo, I hope you OD, don`t come playin` with meLittle bitch, better watch what you`re sayin` to meTalkin` shit for shock value, boy, you ain`t realTurned hard the day Dre gave you a record dealWent and sold your soul for some acid pillsServin` up that hors d`oeuvre, man, now eat this mealInstead of worryin` about who you should be dissin`You need to worry about who your wifey been kissin`Or if you go to prison while you`re doin` your bidI`ll look in on your lady and do things for your kidMake her write you lots of letters about the things that we didAnd send you pictures of me chillin` all up in your cribThat shit about Sway n` Tek? That was a fibFirst time you met me I showed you love in D.C.But you were scared like a pussy with your eyes on the floorWhile your crew showed me love outside the front doorTalkin` `bout "Yo, whassup, ain`t you Whitey Ford?I love that song `What It`s Like` and that jam `Praise the Lord`"I don`t do this for the money, yo, I do it for funYou may hang around some gangstas, but you ain`t oneAnd you won`t be slappin` me with no empty gunTalkin` `bout a [ ] but you a one in dragAnd you can`t keep your woman from goin` astrayBetter run and check your kid for your DNAI take care of my moms, you get sued by yoursWith your corny metaphors about drugs and crack whoresYou`re a suckerWord up, realYou wanna talk shit with Whitey, come talkin` with the hands, BI ain`t wastin` no more time with you, man, fuck this,man, that`s it

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