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Текст песни Mr. Doctor f Brotha Lynch Hung, Foe Loco - 40 Oz and Chronic Dice

Mr. Doctor f Brotha Lynch Hung, Foe Loco - 40 Oz and Chronic Dice слова песни

(Hook) (Doc)Finally the sun went down in the hood and I was buddedDice game and fat sacks a indoService with high times and made itRainy days blew me away, so I drank the 4 everydayMatter fact it was a murder presentOne-eight-six point duece that was ridin wit one-eighty-seven(40 ounces and chronice dice)Yeah, I stay high muthafucka(Lynch)On my briefcase is some crumbled weedBuckshot shells from a dead bodyGot a whole bunch a 40`s and a couple a hoesA `95 Fifty sittin on Trues and VoguesPlus I had a nine in my glove compartment`Cause everywhere I go niggas love to start shitFive pound chronic dice, in my mitsFifteen teflons, in my clipHeard about a lot a sick shit in the block, soI stay locc to the brain and remain incognitoWith my twenty sack a the bombMoney back guarantee, if you hit that shit and don`t wanna kill yo` momGot the clip, glock, Chevy Impala to dumpStop the glock, no you can`t the Doc from the gangbang niggaSo up goes yo` triggaStayin high off the cess, I`m inAnd my nigga say(Hook)(Foe Loco)So fuck ya, rippin off ya forehead and down yo` cheeksYou in the ??? Doc shape `cause I drop seven by you feetAnd ya broke, my pockets are no for load all day`Cause that eastside slangs `em in effective waysAnd amazing thangIs the gangbang`ll come up off a crap game, poor some mo` drank and dankThen hits the stain, where my frozen Ides isTwist off a cap where my liquid suicide livesFrostbitten from, that Crooked I, I`m lookin throughWe get sick, Foe Loco, the mark eastside, ridin on youHe comin at me wrong, damn, we between the sheetsIs suicide on yo` mind, must I leave you on these streetsRaise up off me, but really realizin the strengthHad him readin the ?? and the serial number on this thangPeep the slug, toke the reefer, let the barrel meet `chaMean mug in the center of the street and the reaper then(Hook)(Doc) (talking)Yeah, and a special shout goes out to all the playas on the southsideIt`s a Garden Blocc thang nigga, stay rippin, know what I`m sayinAnd everythangMuthafuckin homies on the eastside, Foe Loco, Bugsy, Lil` Sky and shit niggaY`all muthafucka`s handle that gangsta shitAnd I`m out `til the duece-nine, Garden Blocc, ride `til I dieOh yeah, FUCK YO` ASS SNITCH, you know who I`m talkin to bitchFuck yo` ass nigga, some brand new news a nigga picked up onYou never know who you can trustSometimes you can`t even trust ya big homieI`m out

Другие песни Mr. Doctor f Brotha Lynch Hung, Foe Loco:

Mr. Doctor f Brotha Lynch Hung, Foe Loco - 40 Oz and Chronic Dice
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