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Popa Wu f 12 O`Clock, Babyface Finster,

Visions of the Tenth Chamber

176,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Popa Wu f 12 O`Clock, Babyface Finster, - Visions of the Tenth Chamber

Popa Wu f 12 O`Clock, Babyface Finster, - Visions of the Tenth Chamber слова песни

Typed by: Masta10304@HotMail.Com, goldenarms_10304@yahoo.com[Hook: Ol` Dirty Bastard]Get prepared for the Buddha MonkYou wanna get high? Roll up the skunkLadies and gentlemen..[Intro: Ol` Dirty Bastard]Yo, turn this shit up, manTurn the mics open.. turn the mic up, manI want.. I want the mic.. I want the mic to shakeThe mic don`t even sound good at allMan, what`s up with that shit?Each one of these niggaz try to say a rhymeThey don`t wanna work through that shitKnawI`msayin? Niggaz gotta learn how to feel that shit..If you`re feelin with me, then you`re dealin with filthIf you can barely hear it then you need to go[Hook 2X][Chorus 2X: 12 O`Clock]It`s a Buddha Monk showBrooklyn Zu niggaz smoked, high off a duck low[Babyface Finster]Nosy wails tales from a High Plainz DriftaBounty Killer, most wanted villainDead or alive, to survive he strive off gun smokeI toke, the Colt forty-fiveDesert Eagle, rips through cerebral tissueThe issue, gun slingin, drug dealin, four wheelinAppealin chicks, up jumps the bullshitAnd it`s a hit, a tale of two hoesSongs about clothes, need to be thrown out ya fuckin windowNiggaz lovin hoes, lickin their toesI suppose you high from the candy, for the noseNiggaz is a joke, I take a toke of the laAnd all the botty boys go boom bye bye[Chorus][Manley Musa]If he fucked upThese niggaz spreadin rumors and get touched upBy M three-eighty-oh, Musa on the lowGet ya high with fly style, rugged profileWith chuckers, you know its time for some pound to goCock suckers, get they fuckin neck broke in my bookStrike, if you don`t want to get hype then stay putPop shit like like liquid lips, spit like Mac`s spitBurnin in whips, sippin and dip cops and shitThe God can`t slip, I hold the weight above my shouldersFake toasters get bust back, you`re still in the holsterDon`t play this shit backwards, it goes "MC`s lack this"Deep in the corridors of the ghettos where I yap thisHeads try to plot on this, kidnap us like slaves, du`Doggy, he`s Wu, he`s the brand new crazeYoung child misbehave on brand new styles that`s bathedAnd addict was holdin black back in his earlier daysI had badder days, that was better days and skills paysStill got laid, rollin on through these street tradesEach corner is equality, baby, do you follow me?Diggin in the Crates to write this sawed off biographyWhile your girl be hard, gosh in me, partially, properlyCuz you know the Gods be, I be new born to this, see?My mom`s givin me a kiss and the first whif for me toLive off this and your shit tooGods teach Hebrew to a due to live proof throughMy rhymes will be findin you, black will be designed youDig into my chronicle, so I can unbondage youThey let you see what they want you toBut things is right in front of you(Ladies and gentlemen...)[Buddha Monk]Yes, we leave your brain demented, these God-bodies inventedA skill of Resident Evil with no follow-up sequelsMy peoples, don`t let the devil mislead you and beat youWicked minds they feed through, sayin it here for the peopleIt`s unbelieveable, weak minds they retrieve throughSchemin for the C.R.E.A.M., rejoice in the Land of the DreamsSlide the poison in the weak germs, black babies turn to earthwormsIn holocaust you must learn, dis-speak your devil termsYour mind is tapped like forgery and everything you say is wateryWhat you ought to do genius is stop karma like Twelve Monkeys[Chorus 2X][Shorty Shit Stain]I be the rap head and the mic`s my pipeI`m about to get everybody high tonightYou ain`t had no cool shit like this since `95I can`t be tried, it`s mad live, people do or dieAnd I be comin with the good shit, soundin like dopeI know you smoke it, but you won`t get high, off this noteHave you upped Billy up like coccaine? You thought you could reign?But all you did was throw mad pain, like diamondsYou could send the lady`s best friendAnd when it come to makin lyrics, I will representYo, climbin the charts like a catI`m rollin with mad clips and gatsI can`t be stopped, like this is Shitty ShittyAnd my Zu rolls thick, floodin the country with massive hits[Spiritual Assassin]Yo, the pictures you painted and paragraphs is half-assedA hard task to accomplish, I`m a full definition of skillsBeing impressive, one rhyme is selfish, it`s known as relativesObjective and goal, make an emcee concentrateYou`re frustrated, when you examinedVocals` movin forward, with left and right panninYou`re shootin tranquilizers, reach out as Spiritual touchThis Brooklyn warrior walks with stab wounds to the gutYou picked up twenty yards in rushin, menustrateGot hit, your backbone couldn`t hold the weightShit shift, like a burnt out clutch, positionTwenty-two yard line, you`re out of fuckin commissionI`m fuckin up beats like Vodka from Finland, fatigue shit is greenAnd left them calm like they we`re all readyMy shit is point blank period like a bitch leanin heavySpillin over the same path, from my mouth you fall last[Drunken Dragon]This is lyrical insanity and mandatory we bustAll you so-called crazy niggaz still get touchedSon I thought you had shit locked down, look aroundManchuz took control of your stereo soundPlus the crown for the new found kings of this rap thingVictorious swing like Lo Han`s, son no man could take what I startI keep the best for self, to get the poor partPlus the boot like Columbus, S.T.D. spread like fungusTouch hundreds, thousands, more than millionOh no we`re four billions, our way of light shines through darknessI spark this track like lye, pop dukes was a geminiWhat`s your sign?*scratching of the beat and beeping*

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Popa Wu f 12 O`Clock, Babyface Finster, - Visions of the Tenth Chamber
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