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Текст песни Ras Kass - Hands Up

Ras Kass - Hands Up слова песни

[Intro]"Y`all don`t re-up like us""Y`all don`t re-up like us""Y`all don`t re-up like us"(Want the whole world to say "Fuck that")"Ay! Y`all don`t re-up like us" (Haha)"Y`all don`t re-up like us" (Easy enough right?)"Y`all don`t re-up like us" (Fuck that!)"Y`all don`t re-up like us""Y`all don`t re-up like us""Y`all don`t re-up like us, ay!"(Doctor know, state your name, gangsta, gangsta)[Verse 1]My new name is, Ras GannonL.A. Raiders, arm like cannonQuarterback rap, improve your jewelsFuck silver, we sport platinum and blackHow platinum is that?Snatch my album, from y`all capital sapsIt`s a motherfucking rap andIf I turn myself in, start serving my bidI`m a show off my cell, on MTV Cribs (aha)These ain`t Air Force Ones, these GFFGianfranco Ferre, ostrich skin beltFuck a chinchilla, rock a rap nigga peltHot to death, the boy touch flame it`ll meltDamn shame I got the short end of the stickCause I sharpened that shit, and slit the rap game`s wristFuck that, Ras Kass the measure of all who claim to be niceFrom the mic to the dice to the dikes[Chorus](Hands up) Throw your hands in the airAnd wave them motherfuckers, like you just don`t care(Hands up) Put your hands in the sky2-11 nigga, your money or your life(Hands up) Throw your hands in the airAnd wave them motherfuckers, like you just don`t care(Hands up) Put your hands in the sky1-8-7, ya money or ya life[Verse 2]All I need is one mic, two 22`s, three 80`sFour play five mama`s of my babies, six 100 MercedesSeven summers locking the game like Jay-ZEight gangsters riding like my Bigg homie Tray DeeWit Dangerous Minds inflict, thinking bout flaming this nineTen in a clip, +Ocean`s Eleven+, robbed the whole Vegas StripJudged by twelve, but oh wellIf controversy sells, I`m about to clock a grip (whoo)Do the math and count the months in a year niggaGave your girl a yeast infection, I fucked her and poured beer in herLess than a prophet, but more than a mere sinnerSpit doper than Pookie smoking crack from car antennasMy jaw invent a - nother niggas career, one hitta quittaRas get better, you get bitter, hit herThe homies like "Whats up?"And pop up in spots where gangstas throw they block up[Chorus][Verse 3]Fuck that, I don`t trick on hoesI only buy drinks, get em drunkTake `em home, fuck `em wash my dick in the sinkWhite T-shirt, blue jeans, black minkRed-eyed like green backs, fickle pinkPlatinum Visa, patrone gold, we could speakTalk about breaking bread, homes, we could eatNo loot, kick rocks, hit the road, we could streetKeep elite company, cause like when bum niggas hang on ya legIt`s like a poodle dry humping meAnd like Nas say, "It`s disgusting"I hate dick riders, fuck `em, end of discussionTrust me it`s nothing, Ras must got another spine on his chestCause you won`t see me frontin`This real talk, like getting hit by a sawed-off gaugeWith more +Bucks+ then +Milwauk`+[Chorus][Outro] + (w/ "Y`all don`t re-up like us" - til end)Fuck that, yeah what up niggasThis ya boy Young SippioKill `em off RasyFuck that, yeahMy thugs in the club, find a bitch wit assFuck that, yeahAll my down ass bitches bout making that cashSay "Fuck that", yeahRe-Up Entertainment, IndependentWe treat a major like fuck thatYeah, getcha money, uh, fuck that

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