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Текст песни Sway and Tech f Big Daddy Kane, Chino XL - 3 to the Dome

Sway and Tech f Big Daddy Kane, Chino XL - 3 to the Dome слова песни

*carried over from previous song*[Kool G Rap]Aiyyo check it out yo, this is Kool G RapLettin you know from the foundation, Road to the RichesSway & Tech represented for a catThe next album, Wanted Dead Or AliveMy man Sway & Tech represented, yaknamsayinThe next album, Live And Let DieWhat goes on from 4,5,6And now The Roots Of EvilThey kept it real through all the freestylesWit me, Big Daddy Kane, KRS-OneNamean?, the list goes on and onNo doubt, namsayin?[Big Daddy Kane]Uh-huh, you in the perils of the lyrical heroesThat rule just like the pharoahesRobert DeNiro`s got it covered just like sombrerosSeek shelter, here comes the warpathAnyone who`s tryin to reign, I change the whole forecastIf I slip, half a herd he learnedThis murder he earned ?in turn? ? turned his body to third-degree burnsYou`re purely pathetic, I won`t let itAnd once I set it, the after-party`s in the paramedicsVulgars, come back when you`re olderTalkin like you`re grown, you cats is small soldiersEnough of them as the god muscle in, it`s puzzlinYou couldn`t carry weight if you was hustlinStyle ain`t even de-cent, them not gonna squeeze nonePlease dun, give me one rea-sonWhat I, say in a verse will be slayin you worseAs I wet em up just for the sake of obeying my thirstAnytime anywhere, without any fairI`ll do it with any hair, what da deal, ain`t he there? wha whatWhat I do will be crucially brutally Usually legal and rippin stupidly, ain`t nuttin new to meWhat I spit attract felons, crack melonsLeave the chickenheads back swellinGame tight wit the way I`m livinI bag birds and I stuff em like ThanksgivingMy bad self, get more love than tennis>From New York to VeniceBlack as a dentist here to represent to live wit the menaceTo win the apprentice, if your heart shows stealthYou better watch yo` self before I stop yo` healthCuz then the props here baby, you ain`t gettinYou better recognize, the true and livinYou played yourself fast, put two quarters in your assWhat I meant? Arcades done went up to fifty cent[Chino XL]That lyric tarantula, Chino about to make this example ofWit one verse, shittin on a whole label roster samplerMy first name:Chino, my last name:Went ThereLeavin rappers curled up and dyed like Immature`s hairWit lyrical warfare, when I spray shitMy style like AIDS, half a y`all got it just none of y`all is sayin shitI hate and spit at devils that want to posses ChiJesus came in the vocal booth, like "Nigga, you the next me!"So test me, battle and you will become a dead manAnd there`s a lot of fake Chino`s like Craig Mack`s a fake RedmanBut I`m above the surface of this rap circusWritin more incredible verses on accident than you can on purposeYou a worthless waste of flesh, like fat asses on a nunI`m God`s bastard son, that blasts and thinks bloodbaths are funI hate you wit a passion, make white chicks faint like I`m HansonHistorically know for bringin down the house like I`m SamsonMy damn tongue bursts, in the the first verse there`s a bad curse that hurtsI`m leavin wack church passengers inside of a fast hearseEscapin the wrath of JerseIt`s a sad earth when my pen dirtsAxe murderer type of massacre occurs if we match wordsI`m past blurs, I smack herbsGritty-green eyes like BaduLeavin minds fucked up like Maxwell`s hair-doAnd I`ma be the sickest till I`m deadThe type to rent Halloween 4 eight times just to laugh at LL`s headMy new album is Flo-Jo`s heart, watch it blow upYou ain`t just wack, you`re what wack wants to be when it grows up[Kool G Rap]The Godfather saga, hit you dead in the chest like shots of VodkaFuner-als crowded like soccer while I`m watchin operaLast like Sinatra, blast like BinacaBinoculars is how I`m watchin droppin from the chopperMafia imposterYou`re left for dead wit your face inside of your plate of pasta?Freddy in a hasa?, salute to my crew to prosper (salute)You know how we do, we icepick the boulderYou get dabbed over glasses of ice wit the BollaBlood on your shoulder, make costra nostraKeepin the heater wit the toastersDough in the sofa, cashmeres and gator loafersWe bullet-proof the Rovers, pimp-smack you soberOur whole crew is ?skippin? lieutenants and soldiersFlip on you the way Montana did to MinolaCondition vulgar holdin on blowers older than YodaLeave bad odors when we give cobras crystal like YogaColder than the caps that`s in the Polar, bubble like soda?Been in Egypt for loader foreliners over?Cross me, cut our your momma`s ovariesKid you know the steez, have your wake smellin like potpourriOn the low-key, ship keys to over-seasMy shit gets sold quicker than groceriesK-double-O-L-and-G, you know it`s me

Другие песни Sway and Tech f Big Daddy Kane, Chino XL:

Sway and Tech f Big Daddy Kane, Chino XL - 3 to the Dome
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