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Текст песни Freddie Foxxx (Bumpy Knuckles) - 24 Hrs

Freddie Foxxx (Bumpy Knuckles) - 24 Hrs слова песни

Intro:It is no longer 1999...And I live in a world of one track minds...Where the industry feeds us fashion design...That creates MCs that cannot rhyme...For ten years I waited to make my move...Now we`ll see who`ll win, and who`ll lose...And if I had to state my word...Say this`ll probably be the realest shit you ever heard...I been watching, from afar...I know where you live, I know who you are...Redemption is my only scar...And so my heart bleeds dark, like tar...So I treat my friends today like they`ll be enemies tomorrow...So when they die, I`ll have no sorrow...Just remember those you decide to cross...Cuz if your door gets knocked on you get knocked offVerse:Who`s that six foot bald nigga from New YorkWith the gangsta walk, the gangsta talkThrillin to find `em and kill `emI`m wildin`, I`m illinI don`t give a fuck about you, and that`s my feelinI`m in a brand new house nigga chillinWith shoeboxes of hundred dollar bills nigga spillinTrainin the baddest bitch, givin her the drillinWhile you hangin in The Tunnel know you pussy ice grillinMan bein a bitch must really be fufillinCuz alotta niggas happy bein soft just chillinScenario, gun in your mouth run the platinum watch with the cuban linkBracelet and the matching necklaceAnd I`m too shiny V Vs glowin in your earNew gun, new jewels, new album new yearNiggas think they bigger than the gameI got news for you *Willy*, let`s take it back to PhillySo you can find your roots, fuck braggin on your lootNigga you aint that hardAnd a nigga can`t spend no money layin in the graveyardOmigod, it really shocks youThis can`t be the same motherfucker Freddie Foxxx whoI really feel his lyrics, I love all his rhymesI thought that we was cool, you think he`s hard to findI rip in dark posin alleysAs a kid got knowledge from the gods at the rallyI slip on the game like BalliesAnd show ten hoes how to stack it up, get money, New York to CaliWhere a nigga tried to play me like a sallySo I shot him in his new DeNali and drove him to the valleyI pushed him out the car and let him scallyFuck that nigga, tryin to play me like he biggerIn Japan I`m worth ten figuresAmerican, open the door and let Derek inI break my silence, after ten years of supressing my violenceYou was my man I gave you benjaminsEvery time I pulled up and get you in the Benz againWe can never be friends againYou brought me tears when you took my right hand off for seven long yearsNow he`s back and corruptDriving new GS 400s, new Jags, and new trucksYou should see the bad bitches that he fuckWhile your girl look skinny like a smoked out Daffy DuckNiggas are real this aint N B HIGHYou niggas aint got no balls and won`t dieI`m a certified killer, with *Stock in the Game*Burn marks on my hands from the glocks with the flameBumpy is my rap name, when I write rhymes I hydroplaneAnd think about my nigga KaneAlotta label motherfuckers`ll be deadYou fuckin with my money is like fuckin with my headTryin to take my buttered breadNiggas aint shit, so I`m down with you KaneAny time realness, you ready feel thisI don`t forget nothing, nothing at allSo Mr. Steve Rifkind, expect my callNiggas owe me for my rhymes, I come to collectOver fifteen dollars, I`ll snap your fuckin neckAnd don`t pay me in no fuckin checkIf you don`t want me to teach the meaning of disrespectWhen I`m finished in this game, I`ll be swimming in my yardNot at the radio station, looking for a jobToo many niggas feel me spittin on a recordTo be broke and homeless, and outside nakedI represent the real grimy massesOf thugged out gun slinging criminal assesThat shoot up your party and chill at mineCuz they know I got love for real niggas, nine to nine there`s the mindJust remember why you frontin like you more that 24 Hrs aheadIn 24 Hrs you`ll be DEADYou`ll be DEAD

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