Текст песни Hell Razah and 4th Disciple - House-Pitality
Hell Razah and 4th Disciple - House-Pitality слова песни
[Intro: Hell Razah]Uh, uh-huh, one-two and, 4th Disciple, yeaRazah Rubies, and, this how we do it, yea, one-twoOne-two and, G.G.O., yeah[Chorus 2X: Hell Razah]It goes, hoes love you for that money you makeShow me some house-pitality, when we come in you stateGhetto Government, we strugglin`, for food on our plateWe all hustlin`, the doublin`, the little we make[Hell Razah]I get weed high, I get Hennessey drunkI clothesline you rap niggaz like an elephant trunkMy wisdom`s bleedin` every month, seven days untouchedWe got stuck by the same ones who claim to be usWe can`t die, multiply, the most high, we trustYou lie, we bust, forty-five`s will tie you upCalculate the proper measurement, to size you upMatter fact, I heard the government done wired you upYou like to hide around wickedness to wise you upNot knowing Christ coming here to rise you upOne line be like a hundred g`s, I`m huntin` M.C.`sBattle me, all I`m gonna do is go up in fee`sHow the baddest hoe you know, go below on her kneesMy family, Maccabeez, here to gather the seedsTook my Queen out the Kingdom, and put her in jeansNew York, New York, big city of schemesMe and her, love to ball, like a basketball teamRemind me of the nine, with the infered beamToo much pussy screams, diamond ring fllingsTo get a king set up, and wet up for CREAM[Chorus 2X][Hell Razah]Young cubs in the jungle, with a bundle of drugsCaught `em slippin` in the hotel, brains in the tubRoom service came with more than just, some towels and grubDon`t you never mix your business up, with fallin` in loveMoney break hearts, that`s why the poor be holdin` a grudgeUntil we rise, we gonna stay in front of the judgeAll the corner hustlers, we were Kings til they rushed usBrought us to the North America`s, and handcuffed usMedicaid, food stamps, welfare, WICK, to benefitGot us on some `fuck the President` shitGhetto Government, fake niggaz can`t run with itAin`t not rich without the poor, son, it`s one strugglin`What you wanna hear? Flossin` and shootin`?Prostitution, and drug abusing, buying and stealing with car re-usingWho`s producin` it? Studio spot, we did the music inWhat guns I got, how many shots, do my clip holdThe Sunz of Man go gold or not, and do we owe alotSip Mo` alot, follow in and callin` the shots26 years ago, I was inside of my popsOne drop, `03, here to blow up the spot[Chorus 2X][Outro: Hell Razah]Take your hat off and you show your respect manState to state, man, straight up manNighttime dark shit, nigga