Текст песни Raekwon The Chef - Pop Shit
Raekwon The Chef - Pop Shit слова песни
[Conversation]:Keep everything onBlaze alwaysNigga this only nineteen thousand(yo check this shit out)I want my thousand dollars nowI dont give a fuckI went up in the clubAnd like a thousand niggasA thousand chicksWas doing the James BrownGet the fuck out of hereIm like oh shitYou lying, you lyingShit was real sonStop lying manCream Team walked inWe started doing itWild manFeel me?So what happened, let me on[Verse]:Aiyyo, aiyyoE-lec-tric slide on them niggazDrive by on them niggazShow`em that killas is live and fly figuresFruit-flavored NikesNow im in a six hundred white pieceSend half my love out to wif-eFillin out tax reportsLookin live up in Guess shortsBitches show love and supportTable teaspoonsFake goons with balloons shit it outMake roomHow them niggas ate strait tunes yoHorror flick scripturesGodfather flicksSuperfriends equal foul niggasBar miss you`ll flip yoAim the nozzleWith the head brace the bottleGet your dang lickedSix thousand square feetPaid shitStretch Auroras in FloridaKilo`s comin out of waterWatch me slaughterTake your daughter over yoSpace shitBoat across your shitCargo shitWell Fargo got Renaldos shitReclining chairDrunk billionaireWillie like a bearThe whole block suck cock on a leap yearNo remorseHeavy plaque red and whiteEddie Bauer jawsBout the bitch smack five out of yoursPens bleedingGot my shit softFigure like Ike FrostIcy chainCop and hangin on a horseLames lawsGot your name crossedYou cannot claim bossUnless he kiss braid hairThat aint yoursFly statistics lysticsSlang optimisticTwo bats a tie and a biscuitKissed itMmm-aaDiamond on the wrist kidMisfitBought it like a ten dollar outfitPop Shit get your house litStrait upThe route mouse shitGet your style shitI announced itSlang lordy yoStaring at my man Gordy LauryThe bitch bought`em onShe`ll reward meFlossed it, cost it, tossed itThe same Main Source shitYou at the "BBQ" eatin horse dickSneak up link upNigga tie your sneakerYou wink whatSpeed it upCaught you in that beated-up truck it was luckFuck page your uncle thirty bucksRan in your shitBlew you with your hands in your nutsLouisThats the same crew as thoseMilliwakee brewersRocking Wu shoes with KaoluasTime for lottiBald Gotti hereDont make me throw shots trough your bodyEverybody out of hereThats my wordGod through Shakespeare `ereTake me thereGet your fastenedAnd take clearIts so real we might face yearsCuddled up in HDM`sChill baby on and a nigga hereYou start screamin and your scaredAnd shorty came on last yearAnd lapped danced my man for a wack pairill I smell it in your hairMy faculties remained clearPussy in a refrigerator back hereDamn watch your mouthHear it on the airLike a grand prizeFreak nigga that taps shit