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Flamin B-Dawgs (Bloods)

Backdown Denver Lane

267 3 часа назад

Текст песни Flamin B-Dawgs (Bloods) - Backdown Denver Lane

Flamin B-Dawgs (Bloods) - Backdown Denver Lane слова песни

[STACIE LUVLY ONE]I stumbled on this photographIt kinda made me laughIt took me way backBackdown Denver Lane...(Buck buck with the Studio Gangsta)(Me and my homies are goin`)Backdown Denver Lane...(Buck buck with the Studio Gangsta)(Me and my homies are goin`)Backdown Denver Lane...(Buck buck with the Studio Gangsta)(Me and my homies are goin`)Backdown Denver Lane...It took me way back[STUDIO GANGSTA]I`m chillin` in my hood with the homies gettin` bentThis is West/Side Denver, 111 percentCrackin` those Four-O`s, gonna kill a 9-0We creeped in a Duster and busted on the hustlersThey couldn`t make ?a make-up his passengers?Imagine (?we them gangstas? ?? some empty cartridges)75 round hollow points, you Crabs get the pointAnother Ricket got smoked like the jointReload the jammies to milk some "Rice Crispies"But the Stones is deep, we pull some skirts on the "Sissies"Our driver got scared so we had to remove her(Fuck that bitch) we went bustin` on the "Boovers"One was dressed in Gucci but claimin` "Hoochie Coochie"He could never be a soldier like Tone Allen FugeeOr my big brother King Babalu from PiruIf we kill one Ricket, then we gots to kill twoWe out fightin` and slicin` but not like TysonDressed in red, sellin` dope, livin` hard (sacrificin`)Our lives is on the calendar, it`s sure to comeBut my head is hard, I say: "Fuck "Snot Guns"!"Then wipe my nose, hey, something`s itchin` meI scratched me knee, killed a B.G. fleeGot hungry, stuck in the kitchenKilled a big plate of "Eggs, Toast and Grits"Then melt some cheese on my bread and I kill the "Cheese Toast"Kill a Front Street, Bacc Street and kill a "Meatloaf"Kill a "Shoe-Lace" (buck-buck) by time I`m tightKill a "Fake Street", die tryin` to fightThe Denver Lane Gang (buck-buck), so you bet not chuckleFuck ???, we beat Crabs with brass knucklesCause one slipped in the hood and tried to cross out DenverWe beat his ass to a pulp, a day he`ll always rememberBut he can`t, B-Blood`s is layin` deadIn the middle of the street, red flag on his headCompliments from the Denvers, and we don`t careKill a "Nappy Head", yeah, tell `em come to hereKill the "Compton Crabs", "Long Bitch" and "Pooh Butts"Kill the P.J. Watts and "Waffles", we swallow `em upKill the ??? sprayin` with the UzisKill a "Four Tramp Monkey Street" plus the "Five-Dookies"A bitch is the reason I made this rhymeMiss Drag, also known as Miss FrankensteinA killer rollin` one hundredWhile I`m holdin` one hundredDollar bills in my pocketAnd stoppin` feedin` my stomachTo break the hundred, killed you like thatAnd that ain`t shit, my pocket is still on fatMy homie lives in the Front, Monte ??? got my sideTrey K`s in the back, and he`s strapped in his black rideWaitin` on nuthin`, about to go on a missionAll gats are loaded, keys in the ignitionLet`s go! Finger points are framin`Saw a Crab on the way, Monte was pointin` and aimin`We enter their hood, I grinned and patted my .9Last time they was scared and spared by One-TimeTrey`s my dog, and saw the nigga in flewLyn gave me the scoop, so I jumped out the CoupeCocked the shell in the chamber, felt just like a strangerRight behind this Crab who don`t know he`s in dangerI speeded my step, quiet as keptAnd the way I was dressed you`d probably think I was a prepI said: "What`s up Blood?" He said: "You don`t bang"You`s a motherfuckin` liar, this is West/Side Lane GangBang bang bang, that`s what I didJet back to the hood, 109th and Fig`Then went to Gills to buy some drink drinkIt`s a big hoo-ridin`, hmm, let me thinkI grab the gin and `secco, oh yes, we mustAnd took one freak to the house, you know what? (She freaked us)And turned on the news around 11 o`clockIt`s just another "Rice Crispies" snapped, crackled and poppedBackdown Denver Lane...(Buck buck with the Studio Gangsta)(Me and my homies are doin`)It took me way backLane, Lane, Lane, Lane...

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