Текст песни Foxy Brown - 456
Foxy Brown - 456 слова песни
[beanie seigel]Ughh, ughh, yeahThis is beanie seigelThat philly cat playin wit that silly rapPut your weight up, not your hate up, niggasYall know how I play quiet towns and tie em downHaters wonderin how I got a position with rockCuz I listen to the lox and I listen then watchWhile you still sittin in spot, ditchin the copsIm in the porsche box with fox, glistenin watchWore steel gray, lexus, gs-4Thats an evil metal when the dog pedals to the floorIm routin down south, for my aim is to scoreEight cylinder, screamin fuck the law!Got a tank full of gas, trunk full of cashHammers in the stash, scanners in the dashRadar detectors, troopers cant find usWe bubble down atl and hit the linasThen get clubbed with some dirty south thugsGo all out thugs, go in your house thugsTalk shit, put blood in your mouth thugs36 south stuck, stay on route thugsYou know how mac play, quiet town, tie it downI supply it now, by the poundMight front you a cue if you buy a poundIf you didnt try it then, why would you try it now? Then cuz mac rat wouldnt fire a round into your crownI lay you down and retire you clownAnd I clap niggas, nat niggas kid a dirtPat-pat with the deuce deuce, itll workBitch ass niggas wearin thongs and skirtsCatch em early in the mornin while they goin to workHey you pretty motherfuckers stay stuck in the mirrorAnd you weak ass niggas only buss out the fearI know yall softer than them feathers that they stuf in the dearI pack two barettas, never bust in their earTwist your shit back, spit til my gats is backPack four pieces like a kit kat. heh, get that? Cop cris by the six-pack, range rov? dot six thatBenz coupe, drop six thatBuggy eye seven come out? shit, took the six backSwitch the double r, the double rs are, gotta get thatYou see how we play, pop cris on the e-waySoakin the seat, gettin drunk with gleeOr the sharp bar, grill simon, poppin dom pWhy you chicken when you chasin your how with hot teaNiggas flashin back money like its they moneySlap 500 on back of a three-twentyIm bringin it to any nigga tryin to shoot games (yeah)With them bullshit buggy-eyed kits and cds[memphis bleek]Check it out, yo, yoWell, Im a lil nigga dont speak, I tote heatHere to shut down your whole operation on the streetBleek, you know niggas just had to recruit thisMy flow drewl out like a old nigga toothlessWho would believe they pump bleek with ritilinToo hyped up, but weed calm my adrenalineRoll day on the strip, sk in the cribHundred crack viles, playin the benjNickel nine gleam, like this armoral-ed upMy squad be armed up, gotcha niggas arms upWho the fuck want what? me and beans trumped upWitcha town under seige, dillinger in the sleaveIf my gun jam, you niggas squeeze on meYou niggas them cats got the code-ds on meIm on to my off game, leave the stadium for in storesFloss chains and I pimp whores, stay smoked outShirt be poked out with the slums knows eightSix to jump out, you eat what you spitMotherfucker die cleanFor you actin tought cats, but in your heart you screamI read your body languoYou want violence and dont wanna mingleYou want a challange get it brought to for every angleThis shitll slow em down, I bet thatYa up front dough and your six backed out, motherfucker[foxy brown]Sassy fox some brick money, cop me a dropYou know how I run it, 600, glassy topRock them light gray wrist shit, flash the rocksThe red, the yellow, the green, causin traffic stopsBitch please, never freeze, gonna blast the glockThen I show a little cleave and breeze past the copsYou talk slick but suck dick for money in yall handIm like bitch, I got more money than your manWhile you get your knees scraped up, cum all on your glandsShit, Im in the v twinz ballin them trampsYall hoes greasy, so I keep bitch easyRookie, fuck you know about glocks and pock books? You know na na rock that shit, parada that shitAnd scotch that shit, dolce gabba that shitHollow points, top that shit, fuck you tryin to aimPop that shit, yeah, nigga, fox got that shitYou see the ice wrist shit, can you cop that shitChannel crocodile and ostrich shit, whoaYou know my style, I be spendin they cashAnd Ill show their little dick some celebrity assAnd get em a brick, I know what style to get them niggas shit realWell, fuck, I let em live and lick the tip of my shitTo remind em of some rose petals, candles, and shitOr some hydro like the nigga grew a plant in my shitSo thats what it is, thats why them hoes mad at my shitSee me wildin in the four-six, stylin on them bum-assGoddess mc, yall bitches is littles foxesSee my girls friends, tossin they little watchesCris? I pops it. fuckin a nigga toplessCats? I fouls on. hoes? I styles on, niggaWear yall out then air yall outOver here? hustle from where, clear all outShit, greyhound bitch, stay down bitchAnd I know jigga see me here to lay down shitI will spray yall niggas, waste yall niggasCuz I fucked the nigga and pay yall niggasShit, what the fuck