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Текст песни Masters of Illusion - East West Hustlers

Masters of Illusion - East West Hustlers слова песни

Yo whassup kid?Yo every motherfuckin year I spend $70,000for a fuckin picnic, 4th of JulyYou motherfuckers come and eat up my shit, now that`s rightBitches too, bring your own fuckin brown paper bagGet out my fuckin yard Nah na not this year, I`m not fuckin with motherfuckers I`m stickin niggaz up, puttin `em on the grill Charcoalin motherfuckersThat`s right[Kool Keith]I call up Motion, crank the pipes in the green CutlassStankhead roll, super fly spinner on gold voguesFrom here to Texas playin Master P, in the LexusSpeakers and rearview, comin to, bangin through youStrippers that wiggle wind up, out them short pantsAnd bitches can dance here`s yo` yip baby suck my dickThat`s on the Ampex reels, countin dollar billsDon`t smoke no bit that weed man smell like shit[Motion Man]I`m built for action, my hairy chest with gold chainsjust smokes a fraction, and saves some for the brainMy ostrich headband, playin ballMove upon the floor like I`m Allen, show my crossover nowCadillac the fifth wheel, six hoes in the backKeith packin the steelNigga how the fuck you comin out with this scalliwag?She ain`t ridin in my loveWith that kitchen and that kinky purr, or belly rubAnd take that other fat hoe with the blubber, I roll like DaytonsVery expensive for you ones on budgets, my name is CliftonCapital C-lift off, giraffe jacketPuma jeans, trout shoe, elk hatYo rub my back `til my penis bulge out of my slacksBe like a crook and stab you right up in your tuna and hug itI got the bait, five Cadillacs deep in yo` stateBe like them vogue tires, gold trim, I fucked you you`re fired[Chorus: repeat 4X][K] East West hustlers[M] We showin out[K] Bronx to the Bay-ay-ay[M] We showin out[Motion Man]You know how it is, I hear a noise and take my shit straight to the shopNigga FIX MY SHIT and run it by eight o`clockWho she roll with, Clyde that down South Southern-ass drawer niggaYo tell him you with Clifton, and Lady Jones clockin these figuresYou see we all connectedMy leopard spot drawers got infectedI had a velvet condom, eagle socks, tyrannosaurus rex, turtlenecksNiggaz sweatin in a drop-top Vette, but it ain`t mine[Kool Keith]44 mag glove compartment and the plastic bagI come real with shit, Bobby who you fuckin with?You down South with the Klabman, close your fuckin mouthI`m Lenny Jones, chewin steaks, y`all eatin chicken bones4th of July them city boys come and start troubleUncle Harold lightin ass with the double barrelsWinchester sawed-off, blast a motherfucker`s neck offWe blow yo` leg off, the shirts and yo` whole head offWe called the ambulance, paramedics in yo` progressMy cousin Ricky, with jheri curls through yo` vestDouble ocks catch crews out there in many spotsBig boy Uncle Pete, down South hustlerGo help Aunt Reese, you motherfuckers bring the mustardChicken salad, don`t fuck with grandma layin on the paletteY`all take aim and rest, with liquor on yo` fuckin breath[Chorus][K] I put the garbage out, get your ass out the bedroom[M] I tamed the monkey, squeezed the vocals up out the sparrow[K] Usin your tactics, your little speakers sound plasticCrossover samples, don`t try to come, like you RamboGet in yo` ass again, you get the real blast again[M] I leaned up on the curb and slid some beer for my folksTook some tokes, Clifton, liftinSuck my anal, the baldheaded kid unclog yo` shit like Drain-o[K] East West hustlers[M] We showin out[Chorus]

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