Текст песни Lost Boyz f Canibus, A, and Redman - Love, Peace and Nappiness
Lost Boyz f Canibus, A, and Redman - Love, Peace and Nappiness слова песни
[Mr. Cheeks]Yo, we come through like bulls, nigga take two puffs and pass,nigga, watch your back once you talk out your assI back up 3-80 and my stash for protection,family is raged, the world is acting crazedI never thought I`d make it, it was hectic when I scrambledon point like a knife I`m takin` life as a gambleAnd living in the rotten apple, yo where every core is rottenall my niggas rest in peace ya see you gone but not forgottennow my main wifey, dead as shaded chicks,official Lost Boyz since the year of 86And fuck these crooked niggas I could kill em with a passion,at times I feel like slashing in Jamaican Queens fashionYou think you can fuck around, but kid you`re just thinkingIt`s over when I`m sober, imagine when I`m drinkingWithout blinking man, I`ll tare your crew like pagesI`ll rip you from the backyard of ? ...[A+]A plus the lyrically superb one, spittin rhymesOff the top of the tongue to burn ya ear drumsRotten shit, make the opposite team call a time out,knockin niggas three times my size outThe crowd loves me, so when I aint around they ask for me,I buckle up to kick rap like a crash dummyFor the fast money, I get up in that ass moneythe fact you tryin` to test me kinda bugs meI leave crews fed up, like handicap niggas tryin` to get upEmcees get wet up with lyrical gun pillars,I blow up the spot when it`s time to rockI speak through a mic my voice peak out at a hundred wattsWho wanna cipha, I get dumbWord to my mother the father the holy ghost and Rev. RunWhen it`s all said and done, I end the serviceTo cop the type of verses that average emcees seem to worship[Redman]My style is Milk of Magnesia, clutch divide speeding bustthe more the merrier, secure the area, my life familiaris ultimate superior we dont jack carswe jack for aircraft carriersI bounce like trampolines, when I be blowing the feces to pieceshymn em like sewing machines and JesusWhen the shadows of the barrel pointing out my (?) CamarroI get punished like pharaoh for splittin`You`re better off singing Christmas carols for Christmas,because I`m on point like bow and arrow equipmentThe president of chicken head conventionsI give you a deluxe Ku Klux lynchin`I got a headache from the stress, success not wearing a vest5-11 for being dirty and quarts of 9-30Yo, Mr.Cheeks, I made this bitch call policeshe tried swallowing a nine pieceforgot the warrantee on false teethI return like Makaveli on 18 inch Pirelli`sassault and battery like my palms was ever readysharp as machete`smatter of fact I slap (?) ...[Canibus]Canibus brings the sickest drama,fierce enough to pierce the thickest armorI smack bitches who try to suck dick through a condomPlaying with the mic is something I wont domy only concern when I approach you, is to roast youI smoke you and whoever you standing close toand make every man in your crew deny that he knows youdefeating, niggas like Segal Steven,putting Emcees in, positions to prevent `em from breathingI`ll make you question any and everything you`ve ever believed inby peeping your deepest secrets like psychic readers,What`s the matter with ya`ll, I splatter ya`llagainst the mutha fuckin wall with these raw lyrics I catapultNone of ya`ll got the balls big enough to battle,I go On & On like Erika Badua hundred times nicer than the best there istwice as African as KRS is, who wanna test thisFuck yall you dont impress me and no one can test meAn Emcee so ill, I got AIDS scared to catch meAll that shit you poppin will stop, when I put you in a headlock,and apply pressure until I crush your mutha fuckin nogginI grab mics and push niggas to the leftso fast their hearts end up on the right side of their chestsMy hypothesis, is that nobody can see thislyrical genius, I got it sown like a seamstressBut if you want to battle, I`m down,If you got nine lives, I`ll take eight of them off your hands right nowStep up and get your neck cut from ear to earIf you survive, then you can cover your scar with a beardI`m the illest from Queens to the new Jerusalem briddicksanyone who aint feeling my shidick can suck my didickYou need to quit it, if you aint spittenmore than 50 bars per minute cause you aint in lyrical fitnesskickin` boring raps with metaphors that`s wackall of ya`ll mutha fuckas need NordicTrackto get ya weight up, fuckin with Canibus you get ate up