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Nas f Bravehearts

God`s Son

230,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Nas f Bravehearts - God`s Son

Nas f Bravehearts - God`s Son слова песни

* send corrections to the typistBraveheart for life(*sample - repeated 8x* Z-z-z-zone Out)So y`all wit me? Yea, What, YeaWhy don`t y`all blast on these niggas, manTuck in your chain put your watch in your pocketHere come the Braveheart straight out the projectsWe live the life where the blood spillsSame thing that get you cats nigga, get you killedWarnin`, Jungle always keep a gun on himPull out, {*shooting sound*}, four head gone `nSloppy, droppin` you birdsClose range so my bullets don`t swerve, curveNo bullshitBack in ya hand, find meCall Earl, death is the ways of the worldY`all made criminalsTryin` to wild out there so crack, bust guns at Bow Wow`s ageFightin` in jail, lookin` for heaven, livin` in hellFuckin `em hos, born to cope since I was 12Way too foul walk around all the timeWith a gray Mack 10 and a pocket full o` dimesBraveheart to the graveyard, let`s go niggasScared straight, but FUCK them hosKeep it, dead seriousBelieve it don`t believe us, until you see me creepin`,Now you sleep with them fishesG-W-I-Z, so deliciousTo all them ghetto and sober bitches in `burban districtsI`m movin on passin` chumps, and very thoroughly promoted by God`s SonAnd this is the military turn it upMy moves erase a ton, your son less thump nahHeat talk feet walk you run uhRat ta-tat, Hear them shots comeDrop son, pull outYou better send `em back son, or feel that casketThe peeps be like one (one)I`m movin on passin` chumps, and very thoroughly promoted by God`s SonG-O-D S-O-N I S-O-O-T-H-E a female`s estrogenWith my testosterone, male hormoneEnough for a giant`s body, science S-C-I-E-N-C-EDon`t tempt me, EMS against you, me I`m just, invincibleLike Mike Jack said, for me and Al Sharpton won`t be Broke in HarlemThat`s that, who made this style, solo or XAre you TFO`s doctor or Mobb DeepWhoever, I freaked it yes, so meet ya deathI never wear Esco, I got a New Line comin` like cinemasRemember the, original, y`all still tryina show niggas are richTown house niggasI`m six cribs deep, six bank accounts in six countriesNa I`m lyin`, who gives a fuck that`s so tiredWhile pictures of Bravehearts just livin` it upA million of us, each nigga inchin` a busYou got a house in VirginiaThe only way you sicker than usGettin` bagged with .22`s now you`s a ridiculous fuckNo need for the gun play, it`s ok, `cause you dyin` anywayYo, this is for them Heismann drop outsNiggas who copped outIf you prefer shots over knockoutsSniffin` coke, smokin` weedSellin` crack, sellin` smackYou thuggin` it, you ain`t turn it backBraveheart`s gettin` money ruthless `till the world endGettin` high with my enemy`s girlfriendI used to have a bike on a benchNow I got a jeep on this tripCoke in the pot, heat on my headNigga dont stop blazin` cuz ya target`s movin`Shoot `till the gun`s empty stupid, QueensNiggas so ruthless, really excuses isUseless to these swift executionersAnd thats Queensbridge nigga, all dayPump packs o` crack, smoke purple hazeRunnin from D`s quickly knockout rookiesG Wiz you know what I`m all aboutTo all my real niggas(*sample - repeated until end* Z-z-z-zone Out)

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