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Текст песни Too $hort - Burn Rubber

Too $hort - Burn Rubber слова песни

Inside beotchYeah you know about that, real playersThe real ones[Verse One]I burn rubber on you quick as hellYou need some toilet paper, don`t shit on yourselfWhen you see me rollin in luxuryI won`t fuck witchu, so don`t fuck with meI`m just ridin, sidin, whippin and dippinI look at all the young hoes trippinIt`s no big deal when little hotties get hotWhen niggaz get jealous, somebody get shotYou in love? Might make you lose your mindThat`s why I run these gray girls, two at a timeWith no discretion, to me you`re so depressinActin like you don`t know, my professionI look at them thighs, and look at them tittiesTake your ass straight on out, of Sin CityWearin all pink just like Hello KittyBringin back all C-notes and no fifties{*scratched: "so damn.." "..fresh", "word"*}[Verse Two]Burnin rubber on these bitches, so fast..Burn rubber as you smash all fastTell it like $hort, no ass, no passAll you Santa Claus players, be on your wayWith a bag full of toys on the back of your sleighYou hit your girls house, one by oneClimb down the chimney, and give `em all somethinYou trick, don`t come around me frontinTalkin `bout how you pimpin givin hoes what they wantinYou worse than a studio gangstaBehind closed doors, gettin his bootyhole spanked upYou suckers disrespect the gameAll these video hoes out there spittin your nameYou love it when they make that, ass clapBut she don`t give me no cash, I`ll pass it back... I kick her where she stash the crackIn the plastic sack, when she crash the `llacPunk bitch!{*scratched: "so damn.." "..fresh", "word"*}[Verse Three]They tryin to give the rap game to some real punksIt`s just like when disco, killed the funkCan`t tell me nothin, when I know I`m rightLike a bowlegged bitch with a overbite, that suck it rightPlayer this pimp don`t lieHow many porn stars you know that went to Crenshaw High?A lot of fuckin for a whole lot of nuttinYou just wannabe noticed so you`re out there sluttinI never really cared about popular fameIt`s all about sittin on top of the gameSo don`t stop `til your panties dropFuck the mayor, the preacher, and a copYou better tell him what it cost, get his mind on trackCause he look like he lostBring him back, and dig in his pockets quickSteal his watch, and make sure he got a drop, beotch{*scratched: "so damn.." "..fresh", "word"*}

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