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Текст песни Lord Finesse - Pull Ya Card

Lord Finesse - Pull Ya Card слова песни

* 2003 Fat Beats Records version[ VERSE 1: Lord Finesse ]I wonder how brothers` heads are screwed onWhen they frontin around town with the next man jewels onTalkin `bout they could`ve been a starSportin turned off beepers, drivin around in rented carsThat only happens in AmericaWhen you catch a brother frontin with a turned off cellularOut there tryin to jingleLike he`s the muthafuckin man and got a knot full of singlesAnd always half-steppinCause even at a dice game niggas gotta start ass-bettinThey have the whole plan plottedTill you say, "Celo, everybody pay up," they yell: ("My man gotta")Kickin game at randomHis favorite line is: ("Don`t worry, I`ma hit you off when my man come")And how claim he got powerWhen he doesn`t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out ofAnd always frontin like the other kidsNot a dime to his name and still livin in his mother`s cribSo why you`re frontin like you`re large?Don`t front on me, nigga, I pull your muthafuckin card[ CHORUS (4X) ]Pull they cards, yo, tell em how you feelI gotta it lay it on down (on the real to real) --> Large Professor[ VERSE 2: Lord Finesse ]Nowadays hoes is ahead of ya(Why you say that?) Cause bitches be frontin on the regularFor instance, take the neighborhood freakLet her get a outfit and her hair done and the bitch won`t speakFrontin and actin all flyBut pull up in a 535 and homegirl`ll be like: ("Hi...")Girls kick the same old song(As long as he got money everything is alright) WrongYo, she`s all out of orderWhen she barely keeps a quarter lookin for a brother to support herHangin out and she stay frontinWear the tightest shit and get mad when a muthafucka say somethinCatch homegirl walkin throughAnd be like: ("What`s up shorty?") She be like: ("Who you think you talkin to?")Me, I`m quick to say, "Walk, hoe"And save that conversation for a talk showYou wanna know what Finesse think?I don`t give sluts enough to make they muthafuckin breath stinkEspecially when they frontin like starsI shout ya out, bitch, and pull your muthafuckin card[ CHORUS ][ VERSE 3: Lord Finesse ]Nowadays you got jerks frontinThe softest niggas talkin `bout they wanna hurt somethinMatter of fact, I know plenty of fraudsThe way brothers act, they deserve muthafuckin Emmy AwardsNowadays brothers ruin rapWith all this murder and the killin when them niggas don`t be doin thatYou startin to bore me, fellasY`all ain`t murderers, but yo, y`all great fuckin storytellersI speak what I feelAnd if niggas ain`t real, then keep they fuckin lip sealedBecause they front like vandalsRunnin all them scandals when they softer than Tevin Campbell("I kill a nigga") That`s what most sayWhen they wouldn`t shoot a fly off the wall if they had a can of roach spraySo why you`re frontin like you`re hard?Don`t front on me, nigga, I pull your muthafuckin card

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