Афонина Татьяна фотограф Москва
245 3 часа назад

Текст песни Lord, Black, Littles, Craig G., Chaos - We Break Bread

Lord, Black, Littles, Craig G., Chaos - We Break Bread слова песни

[Intro]G.O.D. What`s up man?Word up sonI`m goin uptown. What you doin?I`ma leave this motherfucking moneyThat`s hot shitLet`s go sonQB shitFuck everybody[Black]Who make a better entrance than a QB squadFrom guns, cracks to tracks we some QB starsAin`t no question `bout who we areStraight poems from Shae, Nas to the bar we keepin` the hood glowinIt`s Mecca how the hood`s glowin and lives changin`Little dunns runnin` the streets with Macs blazin`Young cats runnin` the streets with soap blazin`Now y`all know why the biggest hood could be labeled amazin`We stand up running songs we step to the plateGuaranteed to make ya hot like KuwaitI went from toppin` on plates to hittin` the Ave. and puttin up ANow it`s thoughts, pencils, and papers provin` I`m greatSame nigga in the hood or tourin the statesViolator have to raise the crime rate, check my mind state you could see it`s on a whole different levelIt`s Ill Will I front Queensbridge rebel...[Littles]A `78 baby comin` up in the hood crazyWatchin` crack bubblin` in mid-80s now I live it dailyYoung ones with guns cockin the hammerSpeakin` hood grammar hustlin` cracks dodgin` the slammerAll 31s get funds runnin` raps for they dunnsQuiet Storm so you won`t hear it come heavy metal excidentI got some seditives to make ya`ll start relaxin`Ill Will now waitin` for the chance to keep the dough stackin`QB niggas waitin` for they anthemLook black play the cut like the phantom out front niggasCatch me on the 40 sideway to blunt have some liquor in a cupCrime Fam` livin` up this beat is excellent I feel it too muchFuck around somebody might get touchedI`m bravehearted you get tackled on the fifty line yardageIf you come against my whole team of starters mic murder slaughters[Lord] (Chorus)We grow grey in the same placeWalk the same block, squeeze the same glockWe gotta eat for niggas that don`t sleepWe hustlin` in sleep catch you permanent creepsWe brake bread from fucking the same bitchWe reppin` the same clique for that QB shitWe mos` real my people is mos` illNigga take it how you feel get shot for real[Chaos]I tripped and fell many times but rose to my feetFo-fo longs concealed in my no face sleevesTo my life slip away one step from a grave And steady took away my youth for locked me in a binkMan, I was too young to understand what life meansSee y`all gon` understand a story of thug that like thingsCan`t express the rush I get when busting MacsHow adrenaline flows when the hammer kicks backI know it`s more than life in the hoodBut I still spit stories of my past waysIt`s like a glass mazeSix blocks caged in I was razed inThe illest of fond, the realest in dunnsQB to the death of me, I suerve and rideTill` my physical is stiff and my sould is on the other sideMo` money, mo` murder, mo` homicideFuck wit` QB man you better have that allibi[Craig G.]I`m from a planet called QB where drama runs deepAnd gunshots wake you up out of your sleep like an alarm clockIn `84 top ten that was a bomb spotPracticed playin` ball in the wrist I have a strong shotAt 4 o`clock I`ll rob you under the tressleCame from out of town actin` specialThat`s why I see you fake leaders, and snake breadersShit me and the Bravehearts go back like saint weedersBall bustaz and brain beatersYou ain`t worth the coins in the change meterOn every block and bridge we flame heatersHollow points for you laying cheatersWaiting till` your main day needersShit, Craig G.Naturally and tragically obligated to bust assIn the clutch like Kurt Warner throwin` touch passDon`t believe anything that you read inside them smut ragsHalf of these rappers sound like smoke twenty dust bagsProbably did, you ain`t holdin` the kid that`ll bust backWhen drama is on I know for a fact so trust thatI`m stuck in this life buck legged cap across the body Fuckin` his wife sharpin` his place stuck in his knife What`s in the mic wires, mechanics and stuff But without the fire you really can`t apply it too muchI`ma let you find as such with my vocals I`ll roast youNo matter where you live this ain`t bi-coastalBring drama the most you heavy hitters down to the hopefullsNiggaz rullin` the charge and just broke throughI ain`t gonna approach you, that shit that you spit I been spittin`Back in 1989 when hip hop had no limitsTwenty eight with no gimmicks, real is what this shit isGot nothin` to lose cuz` I`m a double life bidderIn hip hop shoot the back of ya timbs turn `em to flip flopsDo a drive by with a horse so run when you hear the click clocksThis shit rocks from Fresno to Fort KnocksThis verse should be enough to make all of the torque stopNo niggaz that four cops no niggaz that court shotsClose fantasy your hypeman should be Mr. Raw Ock(Chorus)

Другие песни Lord, Black, Littles, Craig G., Chaos:

Lord, Black, Littles, Craig G., Chaos - We Break Bread
3 часа назад 245 (не задано)
Lord, Black, Littles, Craig G., Chaos - QB Finest * Queensbridge: The Album
4 дня назад 240 (не задано)

Похожие артисты:

Ничего не найдено.
wispoz.com © 2007-2026