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Real Live

High School High Soundtrack

  hip-hop  rap  hiphop  hip hop  underground rap
259,00 прямо сейчас

Текст песни Real Live - High School High Soundtrack

Real Live - High School High Soundtrack слова песни

Intro:Yeah sonThere`s mad kids up here gettin CREAM for the 9-6(True) Yeah and I been doin this shit for a long timeY`know? Shootin game bombs the mind(Aight) And this is a year when mad caps get peeledSo I`ma spark this line, kick the real(Bang em out!)With all this chaos in the realms of the streetYa local street thug gots ta make ends meet (True)The average Joe is far too slow for this ghetto proYou better know when I hit the streets I like to glowI like to glisten and at the same time stay lowlisten, motherfuck the fame, I`m persuin the dopeMy steelo is abolic to a kiloCash is poppin, coke is cokin, fiends is coppinAin`t that some shit, a player that`s use to livin richis now a stick-up kid caught up in the ditchIn `94, Giuliani kicked down the doorIn `95, niggas flipped to stay alivePeelin caps while I laugh in the stash, four and a halfRemy and a glass, sparked the boom then I blastThey wanna confine me, sneak up from behind meBust a cap in my back and put me where they can`t find meThey hate to see a young player pay (Naw, they don`t wanna see that Sean)They`d rather see him sprayBut I`m like Vinny, a terminator, squeeze and let offUsin verbs and nouns like rounds to blow ya head offHit nuff spots, heat nuff GlocksIf that`s what it stops like Columbian blow cropsI`m out get the CREAM and ain`t no doubt in my mindFuck this roach shit, I`m hit, I get down for mineChorus:I get down for mine who be gettin down for theirsIf we gettin money put ya hands in the airI get down for mine who be gettin down for theirsOn the regular, shakin victims with no fear*repeat*I hear you wanna be a player, alright son place your betsLet`s play a game of real nigga rouletteWitness a DOA as I spray the meleeContent and punctuation is compared to AKYou want a daily overdose from pure funkI`m buckin off like Tommy `gain but calm as a Buddhist monkDecapitatin rappers in my trunk (what?)I`m sick, puffin skunk, bouncin wit my click, poppin mega junkI`m gettin dank white clouds be zig-zagginWhat`s this talk about flippin ki`s, c`mon you`re nickel-baggin!I`m blastin off wigs, ??? doubters believe it you seeI was packin heaters when jokers was bangin cheerleadersAin`t nothin changed, it`s still the same in the rap gameI`m known for bangin rookies out the frameY`all done forgot who was the pimp from the startSippin vintage wine eatin a`la carteI`m phenomenal from the abdominalFar from comical, lyrics is stickin the brains like barnicleNever sleep, I`m bringin the drama to the streets with techniquesand rollin in fleetAin`t nothin sweet about the streets so I`m poetically illI`m pure like coka and lyrics shine like FiscelleI got to bring it at`cha throat and you ain`t showin no signsK-Def let em know I get down for mineChorusI get down for mine(x4)I get down for mine who be gettin down for theirsOn the regular, shakin victims with no fears

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