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Текст песни King Tee - IV Life

King Tee - IV Life слова песни

{*whispered*}Love me.. give me love..Give me love food..Give me love, so that I can.. kill..Give me love, because I can.. kill..He`s not real.. (the devil) and she must die..Die.. (he is the son of man, he is the son of God){*beat drowns out whispered vocals*}[King Tee]Three strike you`re out they`re makin niggaz behaveNo more slaps on the wrist gettin 90 daysWelcome to the next level, it`s the new world orderSnatch ya like a tractor, might kill ya for a quarterI put that on my moms, that`s on everything I loveNigga what? Catch a L, make you cry like a doveSo sucka free is the only way for meYou don`t get paid just for bein O.G.We`ve been had, we`ve been tricked, we`ve been playedright when we, went left, for what? We shoulda stayedStressed all the homies just to show they mean businessRushed `em with the quickness, killed `em with the sicknessTried to save his life, give him CPR, huhSomethin for the lungs, fat African drumsSo clear up your sinus and keep your nose cleanKhakis so hot it makes the one-time stop[Chorus]Three strikes, you`re out, then a nigga paysWe in the cage, black man is bein slayedThree strikes, you`re out, then a nigga paysWe in the cage, black man is bein slayed[King Tee]Get with the lyrical miracle whippin upgingerbread cookies out you rookies, huhI can`t stands no more, grab the floorHit the deck when I let loose the tec (c`mon)`Nique, freak any beat niggaWestside 106 (?) Street, uhhThe loco`s, chocolate like cocoaGet your punk-ass balled up in the trash (AHH!)You stepped on my stars, motherfucker say sorryThis wild style`s like lion country safariThis is for my loc`s back at the PonderosaCheck my file, bring it to trialGet with that new, ninety-fo` shitYes it`s funky like a jackass, don`t even tripI got pages and pages of metaphoric phrasesToo complex for the human eye to catchIt`s the, gangsta boogie, do you want a exampleor do you just wanna taste a sample?Out of control, gone, warped, zoned, tonedHand me the heater, I need the speakersSparks, flames, no name but peep gameSmoke like a choo-choo trainIt`s the criminal minded nigga King Teewith the Westside Riders, comin creepin crawlin like spidersWe`ve been bit by the dog, call the catcher stretcherJudge Fletcher betcha, raise your blood pressureThe unsolved mystery, mixed up our historyPut us in the twist, we no longer exist, like.. dinosaurs dissapeared, then it`s like.. mine and yours dissapear, so it`s likeservin soon, here comes your doomRight when the world go ka-boom, so am Isane, or, sick in the brain?Or do everybody style sound the same? (Yep)[Chorus] - 2X[Outro]Yeahh... beat terrorist.. (?)TR, the funk ignitorMy nigga King Tee with the funky West shit right?Check this out..Beat terrorist, beat terrorist, beat terrorist, beat terrorist, (?)

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