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Текст песни Too $hort f Erick Sermon, Kool-Ace, MC B - Buy You Some

Too $hort f Erick Sermon, Kool-Ace, MC B - Buy You Some слова песни

Verse One: Erick SermonWhoo! Ah ah, ayahh, ahh ahh ahhAnd you don`t stop, ahh ahh, word is bond, word is bondNow introducing the sound from the ghettoE Double and Too $hort, what the fuck you thought?I come with the ruckus, It`s My Thing when I swingI`m Born to Mack, always strapped, with the black gatWho out there I swear boy wanna get touchedRoll up, and catch a slug to the chest, so DUCKI talk the talk, walk the walk, now niggaFive hundred S drivin with hand on triggerCrazy Lestat, check my track recordEverything I touch is gold since eighteen years oldSo what that mean? I roll the blunt and puff the indo smoke in it, I trip in a minuteCrazy holy doctor holdin me cuz I be rockin BSewin up like Monopoly, nobody`s stoppin meDig it, Funkdafied like Brat, how`s that?I stick and move on tracks while I smoke a twenty sackWho said the E can`t rock? That`s bullshitSuck my dick and get a big fat lick of my ballsYou wanna brawl? Punk I thought notYou might get beat down and stomped like SasquatchYour girl, like Keith Sweat, I wanna fuck herPsych, I already stuck herI got rhymes to make your whole head swell upHere`s an icepack homeboy shut the hell upI rock the mic with Too $hort, y`all niggaz know what`s happeninEverything he touch goes platinumEyeeaaaah!Verse Two: Too $hortI made a half a million in a weekAnd every nigga on the street got a tape playin meYou can`t believe it? Erick Sermon, rollin with $hortRolled from California all the way to New YorkIn big Benzes, G-50 upNow we trying to squash all that East/West stuffWe spent years in the studio makin funky tracksSigned a bunch of niggaz with some tight ass rapsIt`s like Father Dom, it`s like Keith MurrayMakin millionaires but it ain`t no hurryCuz we all in it for the long runI won`t leave the studio until a song`s doneAnd ain`t nuthin really hard about gettin my cashA big phat house with a million stashYou other niggaz got this rap game distortedGivin DATs to the label, straight gettin shortedClaim you`re gettin paid, but I can`t tellYou keep rappin in my ear got me mad as hellYou talk a good game but I don`t believe in youBe smokin lotta blunts but I got more weed than youI guess I see you on the charts in the meanwhileAnother face in the crowd plus some freestyleWishin you could be in the lightPromoters pay me ten G`s just to breathe on the micBitch! $hort Dawg puttin it down with the E DoubleVerse Three: Erick SermonShhhhh! You remind me of my phat gold chainSome of y`all are just small changeBe a boss with true true gameYeah yeahDig this y`all, my Music is DangerousAtomic Dog, coming through the smog with $hort DawgAhhh! Quick with the trig Jack be nimbleI shoot like G Mob goes liftin through my windowChik chik pow! How you like me now?The man in the mirror it don`t get no clearer$hort Dawg, the E Double, and Breed we roll thickLike girls in C.A.U. with the good power-UOwww! Money is the key to fameSo I can live it up with the girls on Soul TrainThe impact, major league dough like Dave JusticeYo Breed, $hort Dawg, show em how we bust thisVerse Four: Too $hort, MC Breed, Kool AceLike some true pioneers, don`t forget itPut the money on the table, let`s split itWe got enough G`s here to make us both happyTell them fans we ain`t runnin no coke factoryIt`s $hort Dawg the real pimp of the centuryGirls get wet every time somebody mention meI was known for my mackin back in eighty-fourI want it all, that`s what I keep stackin forHave things that a rapper never dreamed of havinAnd I can tell them how to get it just keep rappinLife`s a battle, headed for the new sunSo many ways to get paid, you got ta choose oneNow some of the ways to get paid out is runnin your mouthThat street life will keep me tight, I`m talkin boutGettin green, dolla dolla bills y`allThat`s on the real, somethin you can feel y`allMany claim to have game but you can get that on saleBut ain`t nuthin they sellin to you but Arbor and GailI mean Sprinkle Me homey cuz I`m bout dollars and centsAnd if you ain`t haulin dollars well you ain`t hollerin FlintI`d rather dip dip dive, so-socializeGet loot from the Great Lakes, West to EastsideYou tramp, trick, HACH I spitUndergrade if you ain`t gettin paid like thisThe hours of the ATL paves my nameSpittin Mr. Macker izzer are you still in the gameSee I gets paid by the movement of the cutI`ve been summoned by the cancer, to testify and blessIt`s that, big mack, like scripture is a phat Kodeje? So hide your hoe from meSouthern am-bassador, knockin at your doorLeadin a click that`s true, checkin knowin all fifty-twoSee, all you tricks, best behaveIt`s that Southern nigga mack from the city of the BraveI got the platinum caul, yes yes y`allSo plant me with the green and them hoes and we can big ballYeah, now we rollin four deepDouble dosin, relaxin, and maxin to $hort and these beatsE Double, $hort Dawg, Kool AceIn the place, and be all but bring you straight horrorRepresentin moneyBuy you some nigga

Другие песни Too $hort f Erick Sermon, Kool-Ace, MC B:

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