Текст песни Shyheim Two On Da Road (12 O`Clock, Prod - Re-Up
Shyheim Two On Da Road (12 O`Clock, Prod - Re-Up слова песни
«Intro--Prodical»Yo son I know what time it isYo tell em, 12, huh? (Yo hold the fuck up)Yo ShyheimYo tell me it`s on (I`ma punch niggas in the face)Hold that, hold that down son (I got this, I got this)Word up, we got this (Fuck that nigga, man)+Shit Iz Real+, all you rats on both coastsBrooklyn, ShaolinThe block is hot, straight up (Pussy nigga!)(Read the rims)«Prodical»`87, drug, never change their gameWe regin terror, projects slang to ring up in the Beakle`s leatherPlaque for the cheddar, shots out the face of the BerettaThrough the corner store that lady and kid, they caught it rawSmokin` leaf poor, make me wanna crack that nigga`s jawEatin` with the poor, tryin` to live life for what it`s forTwelve years later, caught me on tour Two on Da RoadTwo on the track, two with the plaques, two with the gatsIced out cats, better think twice before you rapUp in your bitch back, only a snitch get thatFuck the chit-chat, click-click-clack, through your Adam`s app`Brook-nam grace and charm, remain calmIn these big streets we struggle just to make ends meetPigs with heat, livin` out the Devil`s deceitSee I`m a rebel plus my level`s completeBitches say I`m sort of uniqueYou can catch me as a Playboy sheetsSolid steel meet, I keep it real with the `nique«Shyheim»Fuck a fair fight, come out my corner with a knifeY`all big elephant niggas beware of us little miceYou know that we like that cheddar, to make our life betterEvery colour, low sweater, drop-top Benzwith the AMG letters, floatin` like feathersDoes it get any better? (Uh-uh, uh-uh) Never, noCuz I write the rhymes, the rhymes I write be bumpin`Rhyme architects that be brutal on productionMy brick house, you can`t blow me downMy thug drug music, smoked out ya townRadio Shyheim, you can`t choke me outCuz where the fuck I`m from, we moke popo out«Chorus--12 O`Clock»Shit is crazy real in the fieldWatch nigga blood get spilled over $5 bills, niggaAnd major drug deals on the realWatch a nigga get mils, and his bitch get him killed«12 O`Clock»Yo, P let`s get this dough quick, shit on the wristPlatinum bracelets, see his Range`s the whipSummer time, comin` quick you got eighty-five percentNigga talk that slick and get his brain blown to bitsThrow you in pits and nigga lock like pitsGot my whole fuckin click, nigga, handlin` fifthsThey blastin` and shit, I`m after that kidWho rock that glass Benz, nigga throw it in his wigKidnap his kid, throw his brain in the fridgeSlappy and pig, nigga, place where I liveA nigga lookin` jig and I run up in ya cribWho the fuck murdered BIG? whoever did, do a bidAnd let his daughter drop a fridge on hisMove like the wind to Brooklyn Bridge, straight to my crib«Chorus x3«Outro--12 O`Clock»Close the mothafuckin` door, what?Got my nigga R`son on this track12 O`Clock on this trackProdigal Sunn on this trackGot my nigga Shyheim the ManChildDefinitely Brooklyn ZuRewind that shit, nigga!