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Текст песни Pooh-Man - Studio Gangster *

Pooh-Man - Studio Gangster * слова песни

* Aimed at Spice 1 "I`ve seen you on the street" "Where you from?" "From Oakland" "Nah, you`re not from Oakland, I know Oakland"Let`s take a ride with the boy from the EastsideWhere nothing`s a crime no roots to a bye-byeTired of motherfuckers spitting nothing but drama rhymesFlapping his lips, and ain`t never squeezed a nineTry to compete with me fool, you ain`t competitiveStop claiming my town, before I give your ass a sedativeHaymaker and uppercuts, hey nigga you weak as fuckI`m hitting like Tyson, so fool what`s up?You and your boys, you pop a whole lot of weak shitYelling "Pooh-Man is flapping" but he`s fucking your bitchGetting ganked by your manager, did for your cashThat`s what you get with your uneducated assPooh`s the pistol-toting, dank-smoking, bitch-chokingYoung player from OaklandI was taught by O.G.`s fool, what you stressing?AK`s, Mac 12`s fool, Smith & WessonsYou got the audacity to false claim where you beR.I.P. to S-P-I-C-EYou wanna be down with my town but my town ain`t down with ya clownSo studio gangster put your motherfucking mic downI`m coming for your ass, nigga, you`re outta pocketSqueeze the trigger, eight ball in the corner pocketA lotta stories circulating round townSeems my peers in this business try to put me downHe said this, she said thatBut you know where they talking that fool: behind my backNever had the guts to step upAnd my fans know that I can take a rhyme and change the flowSomewhat of a realist, cause I stay as real as thisAnd all those other brothers can do is make a wishHuh, so I refuse to kiss they assI got something better, motherfucker (gunshots)More and more I find myself in the mediaOr maybe on the screen for New Line CinemaYeah, your lips are flapping but my bank is still stacking`93 and I ain`t out to do nothing but keep taxingPunk-ass bitch, you slimy-ass wormWhen will you learn you only get what the fuck you earn?I`m from the town of the motherfucking MackEven my bitch draws a big black gat, huhSo all the talking you doing gets you nowhere, playerThe "Peace to My Nine" bullshit I just couldn`t bearHere`s my glock, listen to me cock itThe trigger is pulled, it`s eight ball in the corner pocketI`m getting tired of my name used in a bad wayEven though I ain`t around, these fools got something to sayClaim I`m a thug, I sell drug ficticiousMan I`m telling you, these lies be viciousAnd these same motherfuckers be all in my face`93 I got the pop, and they all want a tasteYou see I`m out to get richer, in otherwords more cashPooh be coming in first with these niggas coming in lastSo I take my nine and my sensor alarmAnd I straight go crazy and take his fucking head offFor being all in my fucking mixYou punk motherfucking ass hoe-trusting bitchYeah your partner pump you up, you throw your chest in the airAnd then you got the nerves to badmouth a playerIf I was you I`d shut my motherfucking mouthBefore my partner Little E blow your motherfucking head offYou want some funk nigga, well you got itIt`s like eight ball to the corner pocket

Другие песни Pooh-Man:

Pooh-Man - Funky As I Wanna Be
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Pooh-Man - Gangsta
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Pooh-Man - Let`s Ride
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Pooh-Man - Menace 2 Society
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Pooh-Man - Run Nigga Run
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