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M-Child

Point `Em Out, Take `Em Out

  rap  g-funk  memphis  tennessee  memphis rap
450 3 часа назад

Текст песни M-Child - Point `Em Out, Take `Em Out

M-Child - Point `Em Out, Take `Em Out слова песни

[M-Child] [Chorus x2]We them thugs from the south (south!),`bout to turn it out (out!).We them thugs from the south (south!),`bout to turn it out (out!).We them thugs from the south (south!),`bout to turn it out (out!).Point `em out, take `em out, Point `em out, take `em out.[M-Child]Who I be, M-C-H-I-L, motherfucking D,Erase the motherfucker who be talking about me.Point `em out, take `em out, we do it so easily,Everybody know the clique is the Kamikaze I.E.Everybody know I`m from my hood that they come O.M.P.,While my niggas count they money while chiefin` on brocolli.Keep a pistol on my hip for you bitches with jealousy,Quickly, D.I.E., my nigga, they history.MC Mack and Scan Man, we taking over the land,With a Gon` Madd plan, the bitches don`t understand.`cause doubt it all time, eliminate who I can,Take you bitches off the earth, sink `em like fucking quicksand.It`s whatever down south, hoe,Check out my new album, hoe.Nigga with that atom, point `em out and take `em out, hoe.Kamikaze niggas down for W.A.R.Ride up on you with some heat, `cause a bitch you never ball,Take `em out, nigga.[Chorus x2][Nigero]Shooting them things at your head, no one has shot ch`nigga,Nothing but high-bullet lead coming out of them bitch` triggers.Roll back, that Nigero, they get to mind a building,Stealing you bitches lives, nigga, blood spill,I`m nigga of the blood sport, inside short, nigga rough ride or you,Forty-four calibur, this you gon` happen to,Stumble on yourself when you enter my zone,Or cross my path of blood bath, feel my force,My rap bunking round after round, low-down, dirty sucka` thug,Blood-shot red eyes, realize you `bout to get slugged.The mug, the chest, to back, this boy just come back,Annihilation, you`ll get connection, killed when I come back.Now whippin` those step in this direction; you getting murdered.Point this nigga out, I`m in the mood to put some hurt or some punishment,On the suckers, reruckers to motherfuckers, in the misdemean.Lay down, nigga, you history.[Chorus x2][M-Child]That microphone, you need to drop it,To a nigga that`s gon` rock it,Keep the club bouncing-jumping,Until money bounce out they pockets.Quit tripping off your face, Kamikaze in the place,Best believe me all about a million dollar paper chase.Ain`t no nigga stopping, you can try your opportunity be free,Why you niggas off the Memphis streets be always muggin` me?Just because you finally bought a Chevy and some gold teeth,Now you claiming killa`, but bentley, you still a hoe to me.[Nigero]Nigga be the first to disperse those so just sit back and shiva`,Fearin` this Kamikaze nigga, scared to hell of shells I deliver.No need for no mess, on the game show, my identity..It`s personal, get off your knees, hoe; that was some diggity.Quit swinging, shakin` pacin`; what, you nervous? You restless?You gutless, you heartless, I might as well make you chestless.The richest world will get your ribs lost and filled, With bullets; make a move, get killed, nigga.[Chorus x2]

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