Текст песни S.L.A.B. f Mike D, J-Doe, 311, Big Pup - What You Gone Do, слова песни S.L.A.B. f Mike D, J-Doe, 311, Big Pup

Текст песни S.L.A.B. f Mike D, J-Doe, 311, Big Pup - What You Gone Do

S.L.A.B. f Mike D, J-Doe, 311, Big Pup - What You Gone Do слова песни

(*talking*)S.L.A.B., Slow Loud And Bangin`Niggaz thought we was missing in actionBut now we back in they faceTell me what the fuck they gon do, now that we(*Ludacris*)We bout to take off, so F what you heardBecause my side mirrors flap, like a fucking birdAnd for the fools we gon clock one, and we`ll pop oneCause my folk riding shot gun, with a shotgun - 2x[Hook - 4x]Tell me what you gon doWhen, I`m coming for you[Jay`Ton]Who a nigga 17, that you know with a strapIt`s Jay`Ton, coming from the lower part of the mapWatch what you say bitch, cause your phones is tappedI`m riding in my Buick, creeping with my heat in my lapWhen you see me coming move, `fore you get ranned overCan`t you see, that the Down South is taking overIf you don`t believe me bitch, I`ma have to smoke youYou gon be that next witness, meeting up with JehovahTell me what you gon do, when I grab my toolAnd I cock that bitch back, fin to (act a fool)So tell me what you gon do, when I swoop the blockAnd kick your do` with thugs, that`ll (act a fool)[Lil B]You a chump ass nigga, that I really don`t barThat`s why I`m grabbing a Mack, letting off shots through your carWho I are, Lil Beezie fa sheezie I leave em greasyWhen you get out of line, I promise you gon have to see meBelieve me, I bust rounds until my clip is emptyYou tell me fuck around and rush with a pitbull attitude, not friendlyYou rookie, that`s sweeter than a fresh odor spanked Ma cookieBetter duck before I bust, and leave you wetter than some hot pussy[Mike D]Give a fuck, niggaPulling up slow-mo, ready to buck niggaI`m out the rooftop let out duck nigga, too late you got stuffedThat`s what they get for playing with me, I don`t give a fuckMike D Corleone, bitch I`m back homePlaying spot back, so nigga bring that shit onThat glock your own, gon be hurting tonightHit it ghetto-burg yellow tape, working tonightI`m like good yay dog, if you serve it rightBut don`t play my nerves nigga, I`m the nervous typeI got a itchy itchy itchy, itchy trigga fingerLet the K drop out, a hundred shots in you[Trae]Hit your block, in a black maskOn they ass, flipping in a NovaComing out, strapped up like a soldierWhen I hit the lights, you know it`s overAin`t no drivebys, on you wise guysOn the low, coming and slide guysIn a Maab, labeled no guide linesIn all black, with no bean piesTell me what you gon do, when I`m comingThey be coming the rhythm, I ain`t bumpingAnd I bob and I weave, and a leftAnd a right quick blow, till your head be lumpingAnd it ain`t, no BarettaWhen I`m face to face, coming to get youHit you with Guerilla Maab, and that S.L.A.B. squadWith red dots, so we don`t miss you[Hook - 4x][J-Doe]I`m so tired, of being humble (humble)I`m fins to hit your block, in that Matchbox black HummerHit the lock, and let it rumble (let it rumble)`Fore it`s missiles twist and turn, plus them hoes tumbleHold the rock, we never fumble (never fumble)When it hit, you feel the burn scream and just mumbleIt`s S-Dub Vaulters (Vaulters)Walking around, with two toasters on the holstersAnd if it`s drama, I`m the closest (I`m the closest)Don`t need to invite us, bitch we the hostessIt`s Dub-V and S.L.A.B. (S.L.A.B.)Somebody call Sound Scan, cause these tracks getting S.L.A.B-ed[311]Y`all already know, we the cream of the cropWhatever bitch that`s throwing his gums, then that`s the bitch we gon dropWe keeping it hotter than a sauna, your whole click fin to get rolled overLike a stick of dro when I blow you, left-right uppercut when I fold youS-L-A-B repping, betting none of you niggaz can come and bump with itHolding it down throughout H-Town, all the way back to Tex-City3 let it get loose again, S.L.A.B. hitting hoes choosing andRunning these old turtle ass niggaz, back up in they shells againWe bout to blow you to the table, crush the tensionWe done had enough of the small talk, and enough lip from you bitchesSo keep your smiles and kisses, friendly shit out that bitchesI`m the type of nigga that`ll turn a so-called gangsta, back religious[Big Pup]Here I come, coming to get youYou niggaz don`t get the picture, till 40 rounds come hit youI`m the hard nigga, in this bitch with Maab niggazAnd we disregard niggaz, cause we taking charge niggaYou was running your mouth uh, now that`s gonMake a nigga run in your house, and put the gun in your mouthI see the fear in your eyes, bitchIf I so much as see a tear in your eyes, I`m gon materializeYou better realize, me and my niggaz we be GuerillasSome go-getters, so if I want you I`ma go get youI`m bout to go nigga, nothing else matterWhen the 40 hit your brain, won`t nothing else splatter[Hook - 4x]

Другие песни S.L.A.B. f Mike D, J-Doe, 311, Big Pup:

S.L.A.B. f Mike D, J-Doe, 311, Big Pup - What You Gone Do
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S.L.A.B. f Mike D, J-Doe, 311, Big Pup

What You Gone Do

Текст песни S.L.A.B. f Mike D, J-Doe, 311, Big Pup - What You Gone Do

Другие песни S.L.A.B. f Mike D, J-Doe, 311, Big Pup:

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