Текст песни Sporty Thievs f Tragedy Khadafi - Raw Footage
Sporty Thievs f Tragedy Khadafi - Raw Footage слова песни
Chorus:Yo, it`s raw footageUncut like four hookersWe`re stealin and killin and ball ‘til the law book usWe [?????] your [?????] likeUh-oh to y`all crookersLike no-goodersKeep knockin` if y`all wit` us[Marlon Brando]Yo, runnin through life with pharaohs in BabylonLike serial killers, I`m on some shit they be onHidin` out in LebanonHouse with the intercomNiggas is wild John to see the sinister onMoney like Maffia[???] and [????]‘Til feds get wise on yaChange your face move to BosniaCzechoslovakiaWith Jamal`s girl`s shape onAnd more make-up onTalkin` to Liz ClaiborneMarlon Brando at the table with the large catHoldin` a raw packVietnamese straw hatSmellin` sex in the Lex`Contracts with death threatsTryin` to stop my breathWith holes in my left chestMarlon, crazy HarlemBallin` with NicaraguansPlan`s complex - enough to shake Kuwait squadronsCuban sergeant - you get kissed on both cheeksWelcome to the family - if not then where you wan` eat?We in the Al Capone Suite - La Fam` and my bed ladyMy sweaters shed crazy - 180 below the red AveryI`m tryin` to see DynastyAnd ain`t nothin` stoppin meFrom private propertyWith the glass roof on top of meCut, cut!Chorus x2[Big Dubez]Uh, uh, Raw Footage nigga, Sporty Thievs, Big Dubez, uh-huh, Big Dubez, check it... Uh oh!Check it -It`s hard to shake these demons after meWhen all I want is more cream than Master PBig D-U-B, man it`s never easyBeing a C-Z-A-RFeel me, play-er?A million ways to eat - do you know what they are?You wit` the A-Team or is you hatin` like they are?Fuck ‘em all - red my rings, dread my stingsDead my flings - cop ? and spread my wingsSee, life`s a bitch and I hit ‘er for one thingLong-dick her ‘til I hear her sing“Ch-ching ch-ching!”Busta Bus` made it clear to meRob a club, “put your hands where my eyes can see”Leave ‘em thereNigga outsmart me? I ain`t the one you can smart-outAnd that box you layin` in, nigga? It`s where you left a part outNigga, eat your heart outEither forfeit or hold itAll you hearin` is “Them Thief motherfuckers, yo they stole it”Chorus x2[King Kirk]Yeah - it`s that steel bird nigga - King Kirk ass nigga - Sporty Thievs motherfuckers - yeah - y`all niggas is crazy, straight up - How we gon` do this? Which one of y`all niggas think you can fuck around? You?Niggas wake up, so we can get this cake upSums we can break upAnd hold so much weight we take space upStay truck Mad hoes stay fucked - say what?I`m in y`all bitch niggas face like make-upStraight up - we can spar ‘til we see AllahOr take it to the FDR ‘til one of us wrecks they carA matter of fact, we can scrap on the traintracksAnd the loser lays flat and get his frame smacked“What`s your name, black?”Most niggas call me SelfishBut when I get this grape eight with purple thongs, call me “Welch`s”Kirk`s the type did a perp` with your wifeOn turnpikes with dirtbikesNo shirts, with iceWord life - so hot I could flame-throwChain glow - like sunshowers, so when it`s bright the ice rainbow(Bling!)Cats is wired like phone polesInstead of throwin` blowsThey let chrome goAnd duck po-poAnd play low-proIn the next state‘Til Jake see ‘em in the lake with eight in they chest-plateNiggas test weight when you play they ‘hood like it`s all goodStart blowin` like Suge and your dashboard`s all woodRims 18 inchAnd your boys switch carsLike rich starsDrinkin` liquor in strip barsPuffin` cigarsYou won`t get far - ‘fore they stop youWatch you, then bop through on a late night and pop you(bow!)Brag they shot you and celebrateMake their props elevate - from featherweight to heavyweightI know cats that talk with they mouths closed like GarfieldSpeak on hard steelThat`ll make you cartwheel over the guard-railCut, cut, cut, cut!Niggas can`t fuck around, cut, cut!Chorus x2[Tragedy Khadafi]Yeah, yeah...Sporty Thievs...Iron Sheiks...Q.B....Yo, yo yo yo yo...Yo, it`s funny how the world revolve around CREAMOn the streets you was a king with one teamNow you`re in a cell praying to the UnseenDrag queen - murderous thugs and foul schemesGettin` your back torn out with loud screamsWhile I`m on the scene with rings and nice thingsNothing compares to the heat my gat` bringSwervin` - black suburban. wrapped in turbanPuttin` work in - pop charts plus the urbanNiggas love it - hear my shit and wanna thug itHave y`all niggas goin` to war, tryin` to slug itSporty Thievs - Iron Sheiks and Ski beatsGo together - like dimes and silk sheetsStill creep - daishiki get left leakyWho you wit? Thug shit wit` [?????]Mahdi - Q.B. - El-KhadafiHoldin` plastic ‘89s in a drop threeYeah - (who you wit?) - Iron Sheiks, Sporty Thievs, y`all niggas know