Текст песни Lonestar Ridaz f Max Minelli, Merciless, - All My Niggz
Lonestar Ridaz f Max Minelli, Merciless, - All My Niggz слова песни
(Chorus)[Russell Lee]All my niggz, get yo hustle on (get yo hustle on)And you punk police, needa leave us alone (needa leave us alone)See, I don`t give a fuck, and I don`t play no games (and I don`t play no games)Cuz all my niggz, they `bout havin` thangs (they `bout havin` thangs)[SPM]Nasty hoes, and goofy niggasEverybody tryin` they best to get wit usRuthless friends, and a crazy familyNiggas try to sue me for assault and batteryCrooked judges and expensive lawyers, I`m surroundedby muthafuckin` news reportersCocaine snorters and drug importersIf I leave the city, I break my court ordersWas a kick door burglar, and teenage murdererMy house be filled up with dope fiends` furnitureMathematical, attack like animalIn my new whip, bangin` Barry ManiloTotally radical, my flow is magicalShe don`t suck dick, then we ain`t compatibleQuick to shoot, foo, then go to his funeralSippin` pharmaceutical, I feel so beautiful(Chorus)[Merciless]You mi vida be closed captioned (uh-huh)Been runnin` wild (yeah)Addicted to them streets, my criminal lifestyleA juvenile delinquent got no fuckin` mannersSmokin` wee `till my eyes bleed (gettin` drunk and crashin`)I swear my family tree, got roots that be rottenIf you dare to step on my block proceed with caution (uh-huh)You see we all loc.s (yeah) clicked up we all folksSlangin` stolen merchandise crank shrm. and cokeQuick to blast shit I catch as good as skank nothingWith the big black whip they at the po po serviceNo second chance, when you dance with deathAs your body gets cold with hot slugs in your chestMerciless, no remorse, no pity,See I come from a city where attitudes be shittyAnd nothin worse in this world, than a vato that`s broke (uh-huh)Mad at the world and got nothing to smoke(Chorus)[Max Minelli]Maan with so much drama poppin` on my setsIt`s kinda hard bein` that nigga M-A-X, but Isomehow still run my shit so properYou can spin this `till your fingers turn the color or copperKeep a soviet chopper, layin` across my dresserThe outlaw ain`t crackin` under police pressureSo, I`m wit whatever that`s gon` keep my shit flippin`Me and Hap. thug together like Gore and Bill ClintonFrom the streets gettin` smoked out and syrup on sippin`Cookin` more hoe chickens than Popeye`s kitchenMy old lady bitchin` and for 17 minutesI`m in the muthafuckin` game, y`all niggas still in the scrimmageThat boy young Minelli keep a hustlers imageNice piece and chain, hundred fifty dollar tenisWith drag and strings, pants saggin` manCuz them niggas on my block `bout havin` thangs(Chorus)