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Ice-T

Cramp Your Style

  hip-hop  gangsta rap  rap  hip hop  west coast rap
1,436,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Ice-T - Cramp Your Style

Ice-T - Cramp Your Style слова песни

(I cramp your styleWith a bullet and a smile) --> Onyx[ VERSE 1 ]Ugh, niggas on the d-l casin me outTruckin my jewels, feelin for the toolsWhen they come they gots to come correctBecause they know I catch wreckA well-known wild street vetStep into the kill zone, baby, it`s onI pack the twin nine-mills that`ll lift your domeChrome pump with double-eyed slots and suchA fully-auto Mac-dime that is sure to touchYa, bust you with the Desert EagleStreet legal, move against my peoleAnd the Ice gets evilHit you with the .44 Smith & Wes-Son, you`re best to run cause my Tec eats pestsI got a glock with the laser, hot police taserStep in real close, I hit your throat with the razorYou wanna live or die, it`s your decisionTalk shit, you`re dissin, i got you in my night visionBrain fragments on the street releasedAnother nigga fronts hard, another nigga deceasedI got a H.K., A.K. and a M-16A 12-gauge street sweeper with the circular clipQuick to let projectiles fly, you dieAnd watch your fat moms cry - bull`s eye(I cramp your styleWith a bullet and a smile) --> OnyxWhat you think all the guns is for?[ VERSE 2 ]What`s up, niggas don`t seem to hearStill lookin crazy, let me make this clearFool, the Ice ain`t havin itAnd when I let loose lead, believe I`m accurateFat scope on a 30???6Sawed-off double barrel and a pistol gripPump on my lap at all timesI fill my gauge shells with nickels and dimesThompson Center spittin .45 slugsBlack Mac-11, Python .357Snub-nose .38 or .380Seventy Automatic, full metal jacketsHollow points comin atcha fastYou feel the slug before you hear the blast(I cramp your styleWith a bullet and a smile) --> OnyxMuthafuckas frontin hardLookin at niggas crazy and shitMake a nigga breakNigga don`t want me to pull out[ VERSE 3 ]I don`t like shootin but I do shoot straightNiggas I be rollin with will shoot up a wakeWhy you wanna step in the sights of a niggaKnown hair trigger, the coroner deliversMore cold bodies to the morgue each weekendOne minute you bleed, the next minute you`re leakinBest to listen close cause this ain`t no boastAnd never forget that I leave you wetBloody, sticky, holes in your Dickey`sOh what a pity, lookin all shittyMy Winchester will get the best of yaHand grenades will fade all the rest of yaI reach out and touch you with the parabellumYou got a crew, you better tell em

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