Текст песни King Just - Round em Up
King Just - Round em Up слова песни
[intro]Yo man, yo, I dont know manYo this rock thing got me buggin yoWord, I be buggin out and shitYo, yo[king just]Baby are you ready? on the zone highOh why, must these bastards tryTo test, my buddha cess, mine I remindThe fist knew the time, and I came wit the rhymeFly, on top of the worldI came to kick this shit for the boys and the girlsTwirl, into the wind of shaolinBegin where you want, and end where you inCome on, send, a message to you crew and your troopsThat my soldiers stomp like timberland bootsFruit, roll up, yo hold up, luckyMake your the cal is tight, packed in tucklyI might be, comin at a project near youWit the zoo and the two, and the whole shabooShebang, its the God doin his thingAnd it aint no thang, but a chicken wingThe king, sits on the throne wit a boneAnd Im known, from makin a fuck wit microphoneIn the zone on my own, always singin aloneAnd Id be damn, if I take a fuckin ugly bitch homeRoam through the ancient tomb of doomA metamorphosis, that becomes a cocoon[chorus]Round em up, move em up, lay em down (flat)Shootin m.c.s wit my lyrical (gat)Never had to front cuz the mob got my (back)Like that (like that) like that, like that[king just]Yo, Im back, to set shit straightAiyo, waitin from the kingYou never make it past the castle gatesNorman bates is my fate, but I gotta escapeI fuckin hate the plate, but I know I gotta dateEscape to the next cut, and blow up, grow upAh, rhymes thatll fuckin rotTo your ear, my style is sharp just like a spearI see fear, whenever the God presence is nearClear, the way, cuz I slayEveryday in may, and niggas dont come around my wayYou better head for the doorCuz I get raw, plus Im shaolin stompin through ya floorI want more, pounds and sounds, Im gettin downLick em down, I represent place, home and soundPeep my style, Im back wit the high pro-loAnother flow, another sound boy over the rainbowAiyo, can I get a fat one? Im back sonDead men tell no tales, will be the outcomeThe wild hon, hit ya so hardTo make a buck reign rock it to methAnd blow the fuck up[chorus][king just]Its the return of the bad h-h-holesNo one knows where I get my strange flowYoure slow, its the mystics of the godThe sex, money, the cess, and the blase blahNo sellout, no doubt, cuz imma representCuz waynes world, Im excellentBah humbug, hell catch a slug from the slug (blaow!)Black fist make the way while the shaolin show loveOh lord, that means its my turn to rockHemp pump cock, as Im smokin up the blockNonstop, I got skills to go on and onFrom dust to dawn, from night to mornWord is bond, youre corn, will get eatenJust like a terrier, I aint scared of yaYo whats on in the area[chorus 2x][outro]Harvard tactics from the black fist