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Текст песни Mathematics f Buddah Bless, Eyeslow, Gho - The Problem

Mathematics f Buddah Bless, Eyeslow, Gho - The Problem слова песни

Typed by: CnoEvil@CHAMBERMUSIK.Com[Ghostface Killah]Walked up in the party like Riz`, Ghost, MethAllah`s on the wheels, Chef on the leftFifty rep chin ups, the Wu rims upPut down the Heine` for a sec, tie my Timb`s upCake the Benz up, Starks ole`Got the summer house crib, beats spun, murder you, than layRic Flair cabbage and carrots, big exotic boat tripsThe honey motion, wind up in Paris[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]Had a bad dream and it came to meThat I died and went to heaven, ain`t have no weedGod said "Son, let me see your ID"(Buddah Bless) gotta be right behind meWhich reminds me..[Buddah Bless]B, I`m just a thugAfter hip hop, money, sex and drugsAfter chicks that got money and tech`s with slugsYou see the head to toe, yo, the way I dress is lovePlus them nine bang quickAnd the hand game speak for itselfLike sign language, you lost and shookLike the fish that got away, man, I`m off the hookWhen these niggaz gotta pay, get it off the books[Masta Killa]Yo, knocked on a humble, slid through the systemBag me a C-Wall, on the bench of the bullpenMy speaker for the pillow, my locked down presidentsConflictors, for the robbers and jukkersThe buck fifty stitch zippers, if you wit usFrom my Chi-Town thugs to my Killa Cali gangstasMinnesota Wolves, Philly Six shootersWe ain`t chuck potent, we off money throw up[T-Slugz]It don`t mean nothing to meYa`ll can`t get nothing from me, stop frontin` from me andYa`ll ain`t got nothing for meI take you where you want it to be, I`m who you wanted to seeAnd I`m that same dude, that came throughRunnin` with the same crew, still here, reppin` all the same rulesCD`s easy to move, honey say I`m easy to choose, that ain`t easy to youAnd I stand out, big time, y`all easy to loseNiggaz face all screwed, I`m just breakin` the newsAnd we do this for the cash, still keep a stash in a brown paper bagMe and my nigga Mad, light skinned, dark skinned, we lovin`, what an assSlow that thing down, ma, you movin` too fast[Panama P.I.]Yo, you movin` to fastWatch P.I., throw the shit on smashThis game is high risk, playerStrictly for brick breakers and brick layers, spit razorsJewel gem star, ball with the players, who grab the rim hardWalk on dot, and it`s the P on hardWhen it`s off season, I bring the pain til your balls bleedingQuick as a Porsche speed, my niggaz floss frequentCatch us up in court reading, with aCouple of sons, that`s used to hustlin` drumsI guess that`s the only way we double our fundsEverything hardcore, when we slide in the doorWait til we go back on tourNew exclusive joint, two thousand and - and[Chorus][Eyeslow]I walk with crooks, love guns, married to gatsThat cali` detach, your back from that battery packMy salary stack, chain make these other niggaz hurlYeah it`s O and G, I`m O and P in other nigga`s girlI ain`t lovin` nigga`s girl, I`m just training, just bangingJust hanging, smokin` while my other nigga`s twirl(It`s a gutter nigga`s world) I`m all about the cheddar, manAny problems you want, speak to my beretta, man[Hot Flames]I was taught from young, that, live is what you making itStuck on the crooked road, but I was taught to straighten itEvery track flamin` it, every gat, aimin` itBefore I start sprayin` it, and then I start banging itStrong arm, I`m claimin` it, if I bring a chick to the cribAnd she ain`t my wifey, then we clangin` itSpit hard, probably cuz I`m missing my famIf it`s beef, y`all niggaz better `dip` like Cam[Todd]Son, you get mine, get knocked, and then I just get timeBut I`mma hit the boy hard, just like you was a punchlineYou spit, oh shit, call this here, lunch timeI`mma throw hot sauce all over that lunch rhymeRap for days, that`ll blow like grenadesFlow so hot, it`ll make `em run for shadeNowadays, the D`s gettin` niggaz, picked upSo I hustle and sit up and let God big upFag, they call me Betty, cuz I got that ready rockFor any nigga that`s ready to go inside the baker shopMoney mean a lot so I keeps mine in the wallYou the type that get a dollar and go and run to the storeNot me, each dollar I get, I make a copyTo let y`all know, for the love of this, I was the bodyLooks are deceiving, so I`m askin` y`all to try meMan was the one, who made hand guns a hobby[Chorus 2X]

Другие песни Mathematics f Buddah Bless, Eyeslow, Gho:

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