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Текст песни Mr. Pookie - Comin Hard

Mr. Pookie - Comin Hard слова песни

[Mr. Pookie]Now uh, which way he came, left or right, you can squash thatI came from all directions playa, can you top that?I got em waitin Mr. Rippla, how you droppin it?See, I`ma drop it wit a CD full of major hitsI got tha switch when its click, I`m in tha zone foolAnd plus you know that I`m gon rip it fo tha song throughIt`s time to shine, time to polish off my game rightKrunk like its game night or a Roy Jones title fightWit combinations that can spark up in a blaze fireI`m gettin paid while you bustas goin haywireSo wha you say now? I brought tha ruckusTestin tha bustas, got sumthin to say but no they love usIndeed, I bring tha trees when its time to chokeReady to beat up on tha foes at tha end of tha showThis time you know, my crooks stay on top of they gameAnd when you least expect it thea`s anotha hook to tha brainChorus(Juiell)Balla, if you a balla tell em how you comin hardHustla, if you a hustla, baby hustle like a superstarPlaya, cause we some playaz and you know jus who we areCrooksta, if you a crook tell em how ya comin hard[Mr. Pookie]Right back at cha, awww hell naw I wont ease upDont got me krunk now, picture me wit cheese stuffedIn my pockets, I bout to get it on a paper rageGotta make my paper change, increase my paper weightSet tha stage, aint got no killaz on tha payrollOnly my crook playaz wit me from tha get goLet it be known I`m from Dallas, that`s in TexasBring it on, as if you think you can outflex usBetta bring yo best, cause I`m runnin round these foolsI been waitin for this very day, straight up clownin foolsI`ll face him, who, you, wha, that`s to all my foesSee we gunnin when we runnin playa, knockin down closed doorsAnd uh, down to strike a pose when I finish rippin on these figgazMakin sure my presence felt, boy I been bound to come up wit chaIt`s tha Mr. comin hard on em, bring tha track, I`ma bomb on emKevin A put tha guard on em, I`ma bout to storm on emChorus[Mr. Pookie]Now you see in a change of clothes, still creased downGot my ice on my fingers and struttin hard through tha townAnd I cant forget my crown, flip tha brim like a pimpSlide my fingers across, that`s to make sure of tha fitGot tha ladies checkin this and my hair whipped upAnd a sack in my pocket, French connection in tha cutValley ruff on tha mic, when I`m chillin like thisThat`s when I`m ballin wit my crooks feelin tipsy and shitI`m comin dizzy wit hits, and cant nobody fade tha G`sI`m as witable, hitable no he strappin on these 3`sYou can try, you wont succeed, I`m to playa like, playboyI know some tru cats that`ll whoop you and yo homeboysMe and Pookie solo johnson in tha old schoolclubbin wit no rules, peepin tha foes 2Eatin some soul food and now we choosinIt`s Mr. Pookie neighborhood watchin, crooks is movinChorus

Другие песни Mr. Pookie:

Mr. Pookie - Whatchallwannado
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