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Текст песни Johnny Blanco f Styles P - War

Johnny Blanco f Styles P - War слова песни

[Talking]Mic Check 1, 2, 1, 2... you know?(Johnny Blanco)Chea!! Yeah, Yeah!(The Ghost)Whoo!! WL, Double R, 2O, you know?hahahahaCasper Producer Co., Holla!!!108 Corona!!Yeah!Blanco!!Yo, Yo, Yo, Yo..[Johnny Blanco]My waist lines an oven, who wanna get cooked?Pretty and Handsome, but I move like a crookthe bars don`t stop call me Mr. B-E-S-Tladies holla, fuck you whitey, and rub on they breastand I don`t need Kay Slay, to start no dramaI bring it to you, ya bitch, ya click, father, and mommaI`m hungry, ribs are showing, pass the forkI`m eatin everything beef, chicken, pussy, and pork(sucka!)The milis is warm, prepare for a stormI`m putting numbers up, murdering shit, to getting my fuck onto all my motherfuckin crackers holla backladies suck on a dick and swallow backI`m always in lobbies Coke, X, and Weedpharmaceutical man, call the block, Dwayne Reedgo hard or go home, no bull shit permittedfuckin with the kid get a clip in ya fitted[CHORUS]You don`t want no heatersyou don`t really want no warbetter back up before we get yayou don`t really want know waryou don`t really want know waryou don`t really want know warbetter back up before we hit yawith them thing that I tell ya, awww[Styles P]Fuck you, I don`t careAin`t a nigga that I won`t airWhat Up?...YeahFuck by in fearniggaz is getting jumpedbullets in getting dumpedniggaz is getting slumpedWhat Up?..Its the D-Block boythe shotty tied to my leg, thats what I beat bop forand I massacre ya head and ya neckpeal off in a teal colored Acura, and thats itlike a hit man if ya hired, but I work for my selfif I want niggaz dead then I murk them myselfI squeeze and pop, let `em drink from myselfI`m a soldier even though I`m a bossand if you heard five niggaz dead, then you know I`m the sourceyou ain`t far, for a magazinehave niggaz at the funeral like "like damn, they hit god with a magazine"when you fuck with P, its like gargling gasoline[CHORUS][Johnny Blanco]2O and Double R, shit`s trouble pafuck who you are, we run tracks like NASCAR`scharac-tarsy`all amateurs, with kalla bars, murder bars, who the fuck wanna change us?ya life a movie, you edit the hard shitdissolve the soft footage, you ain`t hard, bitchya flames is matchesmy kerosene catchesand detaches, skin from bone and turns flesh to ashesand I don`t give a fuck about no cakethe shit flyin out my waist bout to spit in ya facea louisville sluggin ya, right in ya jugularto put a slug in ya, Johnny will have death huggin yacatch you in the studio writting a trackand leave ya motherfuckin head sleepin right on your lapIt`s the cracker barrel boy with the holiday kidflying power out the holster, right by the rib[CHORUS][Beat plays until fade]

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Johnny Blanco f Styles P - War
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