Текст песни The Game f Get Low, JT - Krush Groove
The Game f Get Low, JT - Krush Groove слова песни
[JT]We on our third song, we on our third song, heyyeyyYou understand it, I`m official with mine; I`m double-clutchinon the fo`-wheel, pushin quarters like niggaz doin dope dealsFo` cut 50 like a verse and a halfI cut the brick and now we countin the math, we `bout that birdplayMy crew`s committed, you dudes gon` get itHave a seat you through when I`m finished, my troopers is fittedGot `em posted out in Brooklyn, Hollis Queens to the BridgeWe in the studio the Figgaro done did it againWe got factors out in the ditch where they smackin a bitchI got homies out in the Bronx where they bustin at copsIt ain`t no game with the underground, came from the undergroundPushin a hundred thousand, we out the trunk, never browsinJT, another boss from the BayAnd rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre, what`chu say nigga?JT, another boss from the BayAnd rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre, motherfucker[Nina B]Hey yo it seem to me like e`rybody got they own truthBelieve me I`m in them sheets like phoneboothsI play the game I was born to scoreBut I`m a lil` too cute for them corner storesA little too, known, to stand on the blockAnd a lil` too eager to sit in the spotMami, I`m from the Eastside, yup yes that sideHeads fly if I open ya chest that wideGimme a bad vibe end up on ya backsideOr you can get your back and side splatted in back of ya rideAnd I can make it happen, if I don`t make it rappinThis lump of Satan I`m packin thrash `em with a major passionI slash ya face and fracture you flashin in the latest fashionAnd have you dashin from Manhattan all the way to AspenYour shit is whack, heard your tape and had to take an aspirinStep ya game up[instrumental break][unknown Get Low male]Listen, before I get up in the mornin I ask the Lord for strengthTryin to get my niggaz out the hood, you know how the forces getIt`s like the devil got a hold of my neckAnd I`m gettin this change runnin `round reppin my setMomma used to look at me funny; she could tell her baby boy changedMust be out there gettin some moneyBut it`s a price for everything, you know how the game goFor them birds niggaz`ll cock back the calicoNow you introduced to the beef, what`chu gon` do now?Bitch up, skid in your crib, or pull them tools out?A lot of niggaz is real, a lot of niggaz is fakeA lot of niggaz shake your hand and shake hands with Jake[another Get Low male]Fuck what`chu heard, I startled your brainI hit the spot like a {?} in ballers and jeansOn some eighty-eight shit, more "Raw" than KaneIt`s not my fault she looked at me - you better talk to your dameThat`s just, part of the game and you got servedWho got nerve cause Lethal hard like Tupac wordsAnd, why y`all Chucks always actin like tough guysYou must be trippin or you slippin on mudslidesAnd in the hood you see it`s different from one timeWhat`s your bloodline, play the strip to the sunshineAnd I don`t even know why I`m wastin my breathI oughta be like Makaveli and be fakin my deathI keep that good shit it`s tastin so freshAnd all y`all sloppy Joe niggaz yo y`all makin a messWe on the way to yo` nap, so put your tapes in the deckAnd spit in a hundred bars straight without breakin a sweat