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Popa Wu f King Just, Method Man, Sic

Three Amigos (If It`s On)

191 3 часа назад

Текст песни Popa Wu f King Just, Method Man, Sic - Three Amigos (If It`s On)

Popa Wu f King Just, Method Man, Sic - Three Amigos (If It`s On) слова песни

[Intro: Method Man]Say what? Ain`t no pushinSay what? None of that shit goin onYo[Method Man]Made from the best shit on EarthI bring it to ya first, sick verse from the thurstIn the darkness we lurk, load a cartridge and burstOn the scene, like a new teamLet `em on our witness, the Method how I do thingsPerfected, my routine`s are hectic and knockinGeneral Electric, I`m shockin (bzzz)Now who top ten, to rot and land once forgottenNiggas poppin Crys` now, they stock market droppinThey poison, I`m the antitoxin, that keep the party rockinAnd got me for us all, Johnny CochranGet me off, grant them the ball, if I walkPut that order in the court, yeahGive me crack on and who the fuck really care, yeahWorld best prepare for Tical, to bewareOr be gone outta here, you be warnedFuck all, get off that bullshitAnd kick the fuckin tux off, now it`s on[Chorus: all]If it`s on, then it`s onWe can get it on, gat for gatTrack for track, song for songIf it`s on, then it`s onWe can get it onSo what ya want nigga, ya want nigga? huh?[King Just]You got the beat from another planetThink I don`t rock like graniteLyrical giantical, submerge the TitanicPanic with the frantic, antic watch them vanishIn the zone, by my own, maricon, if you SpanishThe outlandish, even though they can`t stand usYou better off gettin pick a size, tryin to ban usEither way you put it off, I`mma be heardThat`s my word, Stone Cold, GoldbergLike a nerve, don`t fuck what ya heardThat nigga just started hangin out on the curbWhat`s the verdict, soundin like me, you can`t word itI put it in overdrive, while you short circuitWorship the ground that I walk onI brought on, all the real niggas that you talked onBlahzay Blah, so on, it`s a done deal, don`t even go onSoundin nauseous, to choke on strong, to get my smoke on[Chorus][Sic]Talkin `bout gats, ain`t no bustin clacks, and ain`t hustlinToo many cats that wanna rap, and ain`t sayin nuthinFoolin ya self, how let ya ass do it to ya selfWhen it comes to cash, we the ones doin it, who else?Walkin our dogs, ya cats better beat yoursHot heat reach y`all, before you even get a chance to rechargeYou weak paw, me and my street niggas a` eat y`allWe all, guess they ain`t no question that we sureB-song, soon as you throw the fuckin beat onDick riders ride, followers follow our lead on (you a fly guy)I`ma have to air ya guys outMy shit is plat` before it even exit my mouthS.I.N.Y. nigga, who wan` try?Treatin a batty boy head, boom bye byeI.Q. sky high, I flaunt y`all to hardcoreConquer, why you frontin dunn? You don`t want war[Chorus 2X][Outro: Method Man]Three Amigos (we can get it on)*Method Man talkin Spanish*Punk! yeah yeah yeah yeahKing JustSicMr. MethWe gon polly to the death, yoS.I.N.Y., 10304 *echo*

Другие песни Popa Wu f King Just, Method Man, Sic:

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