Текст песни Mobb Deep f Noyd - Free Agents
Mobb Deep f Noyd - Free Agents слова песни
["celebration" skit continued]It`s a celebration y`all, let`s do it![Havoc]Yeah y`allBounce, yeah, bounceYEAH! Aight? Aiyyo..Cats like, "Hav`, what the deal Dunn?"Nigga back on his grind, tryin to kill sonA little shorty on some shit, oh she still frontin?But jumped back on the dick when she saw me thumpinStraight short nigga oxin niggaz givin `em doctor stitchesFirst chance I get, you know I`m shittinon them fake-ass thugs, stuntin in the clubDon`t get scuffed in front of these broadsHomey so pussy, what they do to they broadBeat them bitches up if they dance to the MobbType of shit is that?That won`t stop her from lettin us blow her back, bounce to thatHomey we got this lockedLike champagne in a wino hand we gon` pop andHate on you lame-ass niggaz, we need notCause first niggaz hate on us, they get shot[Chorus: repeat 2X]Just party, don`t get yourself shot (uh-huh)Leave all the drama back home at the blockAt the bar double shots goin down, straight chillinWhile the DJ, playin what I`m feelin (pimpin them hoes)[Prodigy]Yeah, aiyyoI`m -- permanently bugged, genuinely thuggedI`m hot-blooded, don`t have me with the snubAll at you with the bullets that spray pellets, you fuckedAnd I`m back up on shorty with the hourglass cutWe got mountains and we gon` have a smokefest sonC`mon, feel like Vegas, we bringin home used paperAin`t it amazin I`ll stretch how we keep banginWe got thousands to spend on them drinks gangstaQueensbridge, Mobb Deep like terroristsWe come through, blow shit up, America`snightmares right here live in the fleshOur blood and bone be sittin in Ferraris and betterWe out in L.A. we drive our own cars, they not rentersAnd take flights back home to hop up in some next shitWhile you tryin to get your hand on some cashWe never gotta touch money again, we got plas-tic[Chorus][Noyd]Feel that nigga, yeahOkay yo, aiyyoAiyyo we ain`t gotta lay, we can bang it out neighborShit, `til them fuckin flamers empty out playerCause boy I thought you knew, don`t confuse me with the musicI`m on loadin nines up, ridin up, shootin itI`m hotter than the corner on the ave out in NewarkI`m grimy, you find me where the loot is with LugersThe bodies, the hotties, the hustlers and the shootersWith dudes that`ll cut ya, that`s what eatin your food isFools know the rules pull out your tools better buck itCause niggaz be flaggin and braggin when they cut up your nuggetKnee deep in the grind like "fuck it"We gotta keep it real son that`s only how the people gon` love itAnd learn to respect the Infamous to the death kidWe on another level, yeah we really on some next shitGot the techs spittin and makin more connectionsMakin more cash and blastin more weapons[Chorus]