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Текст песни Gang Starr - Hard To Earn

Gang Starr - Hard To Earn слова песни

[Guru]Ah so now ya got me pissed off, blast off lift offTime for me to twist off a vocal fist offinto your domepiece, Homepeace, I heard your chick wants to bone meI get, wild like rugby, respected like BugsyDon`t even ask me, cause I`m livin lovelyBorn to succeed, foes bleed, true indeedThe oral combat will romp that, your one of my seedswhen I first, busted on the sceneNigga, you knew I had more than a gangsta leanI mean my lean is gangsta though so check itI`ll stick an MC for his spot and sign in blood on his wack recordBoo-ya-ka, to your face as I ruin yaClown ya, dumbfound ya, while I`m screwin thefuck out cha girl as she steps into my worldI`m not the tallest, but that ass I`ll polishAnd if the hooker runs her mouth she gets cut offBut then you`ll sweat her, cause like my leather you`re butter softYour style stinks kid, ya garbageAnd if you keep talkin shit, I`ma make ya pay homageCause the G to the U to the R-U, came too far tolet you slide through, rhymes will scar youAnd who the fuck are you anyway?I catch more wreck in a minute than if you rhyme for ten daysThrow the cash in the potYou betta dash nigga, cause I`m blowin up the spot"I`m bout to blow the fuck up"* Premier scratches *[Guru]No ex-capin the explosion, those who are dozin, I close inSet the thermostat at sub-zero, they`re frozenExtreme temperatures from my mic, stuns amateursUnable to conquer the Gang, I ain`t mad at chaPeace to Jeru, the Big Shug and the Group HomeKeepin it real, no playin niggaz or chromeI`m way past the kid shit, brothers already did shitYou want some props? Yo dog, here`s a biscuitI`m a smooth nigga and my groove`s bigga, move niggaAnd we don`t care who`s wit cha, got the picture?And you don`t wanna hear the burners go popGang Starr motherfucker, what, blowin up the spot"I`m bout to blow the fuck up"* Premier scratches *[Guru]I go from one format then switch to the nextReflex sets the pitch vocals rip through projectsCrazy shouts are heard all around Cause the GangStarr sound carries more weight per poundI got some brand new Timbs, so emcees sing new hymnsYou betta repent, come correct, representor get stomped, smacked and slapped, cap peeled backI got you open, and now you cling to my sacGet off, hands off, stay off, you`re way offYou rookie motherfuckers it`s the finals not the playoffsI`ll break you up into particles, to small piecesBecause your brain is minisculeYou little fool, come learn the tools of the tradeI made the rules so go to school and get playedJust when you`re thinkin that your jam is hotUp steps the niggaz who be blowin up the spot

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Gang Starr - Execution of a Chump (No More Mr. Nice G
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