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Soulja Slim

Give It To `Em Raw/I Got The Hook-Up snd

  rap  hip hop  southern rap  new orleans  hip-hop
343 3 часа назад

Текст песни Soulja Slim - Give It To `Em Raw/I Got The Hook-Up snd

Soulja Slim - Give It To `Em Raw/I Got The Hook-Up snd слова песни

Talking:Whats that big baby?You know whats sound dogThey gon` like this here, ya heard me?They go like, you know what I`m sayin`?Fuck `emChorus:From what I was told niggaz say I`m a hit No Limit like Pac,Hit Death Row and make some mon`, now dance hoeAnd blow, up like the world tradeAnd be protected by No Limit tanks, soldiers with K`s and hand grenadesCould you recall a soulja that used to be crawlin`Now I`m ballin`, don`t plan on fallin`For the worldLeft the furl in the dope man, on the setCause I got plans bigger then the desire projectsI run with steel object toes, niggaz that smoke cokeAnd watch `em in they back scopin`Outta all soldier hatersQuick Draw McGraw niggaz see ya laterCradle to the grave yaYa daddy made ya?Let`s see if he can be ya saviorWhen I cave ya chest in with me murder weaponThey can`t find out Smith and WessonOnly glocks and street machines with infer beamsYou know what I meanFully automatic things light up the sceneAnd break ham like Carl LewisNothin but gun smoke is all ya smellNiggaz lying dead on bullets and shellsMy people dwells to UptownWhere the shit goes downShot callers and big ballers, mothers knowAnd do-do brown, Beats By The Pound, somethin` you could smoke tooFlavors like ? red, beans, rice, gumbo the stewMy little one said its all on you, and Choppers CityMy ? clique clanin` posseAin`t no stoppin`, my committeShits bigger then me, Nino BlackAnd a can of Trinity, ya feelin` me?ChorusIncarceration had me real impatientI was local until ya heard me on Down South Hustlers, it was nationThat told this shit is my creationIs it real, yeah, cause niggaz wearin` soldier rags and shitKeepin` it twrealMy reservation is to make some millsAnd stay independentStay wearin` girbauds and polos, and soldier Reebok tennisCrushed out tank on my neckProtect my chest like a vestNo more coke, no more dope, just alcohol and sessRespect my rhyme because my mind is filled up with angerSound like I got a glock for itWith black ? bullets in the chamberWait to be released and decease fake ass MC`sNiggaz best freeze cause I squeeze gats and burn to the third degreeMake you wonder will you ever breathe again like Toni BraxtonLeave ya skull fraction, about more action than JacksonSo you better ask somebody that know meIf they real they gon` tell ya whats realIf they fake they gon` soldier hateI can freestyle about it without makin` no mistake, ask TreyThat`s my compadre, a nigga that I ride with, all dayGot it cockedAnd in the trunk bumpin` nothin` but the Beats By The Pound funkPull that skunk out, the windows fogged upAnd the system all the way pumpedEverything we drop be fire, don`t nothin` be bunkChorusI was a weed fiend, dope fiend and coke fiend with low keyAnd I was on the cumma move,When you and LV used to rock the club 49Back in 93Hoe was givin` me loveNiggaz givin` me daps and hugsSoldiers respect soldiers, and soldiers respect thugsThugs gotta respect soldiers, if they don`t want they life to be overBrought to a closin`Ain`t nothin` changed but the nameWhen ya say soldierMean magnoliaYa got that?And me keep me glock, for they cocked backHoes jock that, when a nigga be all the way realOnly thing they want is the dough, dick appealBut I don`t fuck around no moreAnd only saw me like that you little clown ass hoeIf my flow was a gun, bitch you would run

Другие песни Soulja Slim:

Soulja Slim - From What I Was Told
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Soulja Slim - Get High With Me
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Soulja Slim - Head Buster
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Soulja Slim - Law Breakaz
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Soulja Slim - Only Real N.
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