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DH RAP Topluluğu
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Cevap 118888
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Cevap 118888
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Cevap: DH RAP Topluluğu (6. sayfa)
Bu mesaja 1 cevap geldi. Cevapları Gizle
video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FBDL8WCMUb0&eurl=
fotoğraflar:
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< Bu mesaj bu kişi tarafından değiştirildi quak -- 22 Şubat 2007; 10:49:27 >
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Bu mesaja 1 cevap geldi. Cevapları Gizle
G-G-G-G-G-G-UNOOOOTTTT
< Bu mesaj bu kişi tarafından değiştirildi ysinanunal -- 23 Şubat 2007; 15:07:08 >
Bu mesaja 1 cevap geldi. Cevapları Gizle
"Let's Ride"
[Verse 1]
Pull the rag off the 6-4
Hit the switch, show niggaz how the shit go
The Game is back, the Aftermath chain is gone
The D's is chrome, the frame is black
(So watch it lift up), till the motherfucker bounce and break
And knock both of the screws out the licence plate
Let the games begin, these other rap niggaz so far behind me
Nigga taste my rims, let the chronic burn as the daten spin
It ain't been this much drama since I first heard Eminem
In the club, poppin' X pills like M&Ms
Call it Dre day, we celebratin', bitch bring a friend
Bottles on me, tell the waiter to order another round
And put that cheap-ass hypnotic down
(Put your Chris up), if you feel the same way
Who got a mill switches, everybody lets ride
[Chorus]
The After got the whole world in the club
Hop in the low-rider, as long as it got bitches in the back
I turn into a strip-club
Call it a lap-dance, when the 6-4 bounce that ass
The After get the whole world in the club
Tell the DJ to bang my shit, the west-coast in this bitch
Pop bottles and twist up
Roll up chronic and hash, in a blunt called Aftermath
[Verse 2]
Somebody tell me where the drinks at, where the bitches at
You fucking on the first night, meet me in the back
I got a pound of chronic, and a gang of freaks
Move bitch! who the fuck you think they came to see?
The protege of the D.R.E
Take a picture with him, and you gotta fuck me
And you gotta fuck Busta, can't touch Eve
Got something on my waist and you can't touch Eve
That's my gangsta bitch, and like Crips and Bloods
I'm in the club on some gangsta shit
(So nigga twist up), light another dub
Bitches get scared when niggaz start fighting in the club
Ain't nothing but a G-thang, baby it's a G-thang
Bounce like you got hydraulics in your G-string
I fuck a different bitch seven days a week
Hit the switch, watch it bounce like a Scott Storch beat
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
Niggaz thought I wasn't coming back, look at me now
Hoppin' out the same Cherry six-fo' with the motherfucking top down
I'm The Game, nigga, call your bitch she ain't home, she with Game, nigga
Remember that, Dre? You passed me the torch
I lit the chronic with it, now the world is my ashtray
Ridin' three-wheel motion 'till the ass scrapes
Turn sunset into a motherfucking dragrace
Now watch it bounce, hit the switch, let it bounce till the police shut the shit down
(When you hit the club), tell 'em you came with me
(We gon' twist up), in the VIP
buda g unite diss
"300 Bars & Runnin'"
[INTRO]
My mama took me to Sam Goody's
I wanted to buy a 50 Cent CD
I took that shit home
That shit was wack like a motherfucker
Don't fuck with Game
I like 50 Cent
He reminds me Spongebob
And Tony Yayo is Blues Clues
And Lloyd Banks is Dora the Explorer
They're my friends
Psyche
I went down one of them Bodaga shits right there in Harlem
Got me a bootleg Lloyd Banks and Young Buck CD
Took that shit home, put it in my boom box
Thought I was 'bout to be on some radio Raheim shit
Man that shit sound like some Vanessa Williams '88
I mean Olivia cute but they say that bitch a man
So this Black Wallstreet for life now
GGG-UNOT!
[GAME]
300 Bars and Running
Just loan me your ears for 15 minutes
Walk with me
Here the breakdown, pass the doja, .45 in the holster
Hollow tips'll fold 'em, them niggaz they toy soldiers
Oh, that boy colder than Hova unless he sober
Like I'm the president, but this ain't the takeover
Now, there's the speaker, bring your ears a little closer
Before you call this a diss, and you make Hova pissed
Why would I wanna do that? When I'm just the new cat
That was taught if a nigga take shots to shoot back
Defending his yard, yeah, standing his ground
I'm saying if you gonna retire, then hand me the crown
Nah, let Bleek do it, then throw him a concert in Madison square
Watch everybody sleep through it
We can go bar for bar, I'll let the lines speak to 'em
What they say? Bleek is over let Chris and Neef do it
They say the wrong thing, I'ma smack 'em silly
What you thought? Them was the only niggaz that rapped in Philly?
See them niggaz with the soonies leave you wrapped in Philly
Then dash in groups like Beanie Mac in Philly
Compton camcorder said Curtis Jack in Philly
Make a U-turn, I gotta go back to Philly
I forgot my cheese steak, that's what I told the cops
So they wouldn't get the dogs start searching for the glock
And I can't forget, B.I.G. got murdered by the cops
Even I was Ready To Die, when I heard that he was shot
What's beef? Beef is when I murk you on the spot
Label's signing many things, still searching for they Pac
I put purple on the block
So I don't feel threatened when Ludacris say he coming for the #1 spot
Ask 50, it get lonely on top
You can hate me or love me, but now the cops the only homies he got
When it's beef we eat, we win, but we ain't lonely we pop
You sell records but a GGG-u not!
Acting big on the radio, to me you not
You can ask Mr. CCC who hot
Tony Yayo I bet 10 G's you flop
Run up on that new 300 C you got
Stop hoping I fall, hope the bleeding stop
And I hope you black out before you see the cops
I ain't hot top for colors, I'm from Cedar Block
So I got my hot tops that make your breathing stop
I'm a gangsta slash rapper, check your CD shop
I'm like Elvis in there, they can't believe you dropped
Now I'm moving on up to George and Weezy's spot
I picked up where my homeboy Eazy stopped
I saw the west coast, put the shit on my back
Sprayed Aftermath on it, then loosened the strap
It get hot in here, let Lucifer rap
Bring hell to niggaz when Dre producing a track
Take it to the streets, put the duece duece to your hat
Then call up the pigs, tell them the rooster's back
Call Jadakiss, tell him that duke is back
I'm still by your side, no matter who comes strapped
Fuck Lloyd Banks, it ain't about who can rap
It's about when the Ruger clap, is Rufus back?
I see what you thinking, you want me to die, is that so?
Now you left leaning back, thanks to Fat Joe
We got reservations in heaven, you ready? Let's go!
Drop them off, then the sound like Esko
I'm a say 'he hit me first' if me and Dre talk
All Nas said back was he had a ??
Now that's the eulogy, beef is kinda foolish see
Niggaz running their mouth about what the fuck they gon' do to me
But quit the yapping before I proceed to clapping
And you gon' see the captain with plans of getting me captured
Even behind bars, I'm still gon' shine
I'm 10 years younger than Yayo, I get out, I'm fine
Then I go right back, nigga I pop mines
How you gon' drop Olivia, you only drop dimes
I knew you changed, when you started sleeping in that vest dog
I don't need 50 Cent, my niggaz make collect calls
1-800-split a faggot nigga wig
He got G-Unit wings, throw them off the Queens Bridge
Now your career is over, career is over
We in QB, banging CNN in the rover
T-O-N-Y, that's Capone and NORE
You ain't the talk of New York, your sixteens is boring
Take that shit off nigga, go back to PC
And tell 50 Cent you want a copy of Beef 3
I'm airing their ass out on DVD
You wanna rhyme like Lloyd Banks repeat after me
I'm a G-Unit toy soldier
On Sesame street doing voice overs
Bitch ass nigga need a rhyme dictionary, to rehearse his lines
Sound like Oscar the Grouch, with them nursery rhymes
We was in the studio, when I first got signed
He got stuck, he called 50 tryna borrow some lines
That's the wrong nigga, when you need help with your rhymes
All he gon' tell you is say G-Unit one more time
Got mad 'cause I ain't wanna make your beef mine
You got lucky with Ja, why you ain't go at Shyne?
He freestyled from the pen, that's just the fact
Said he'd put you with your mom, and you ain't fucked with that
Then you lied about your pops, he ain't never bust no cap
Like Father, Like Son, go ask Busta that
I knew from the beginning I couldn't trust those cats
I'd kill 'em all, if I could bring Justo back
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
I said
The underground is mine, I treat it like home
It's the reason niggaz saying my name like Mike Jones
And I'm far from Houston but you can chop it and screw it
Do whatever to it, but it in the store the shit moving
Gave 'em a hundred bars, they ain't think I could do it
Came with two hundred, nigga this is more than music
Even Dre knew it, that boy hot like summer
Both feet in the dirt, 300 Bars and Running
And I beef with any nigga, say my name muthafuck I'm gunnin'
You can put it on skee if you want it
I'll air you out on Drama King, Mike, or Clue
And watch them shits sell out like a Air Jordon shoe
I told Funk Flex when I catch the nigga Whoo Kid
We gon' see if he know how to DJ with bruised ribs
Don't hit me on the sidekick asking what you did
Get a gun or ask 50's police to use his
'Cause Bloods gonna get ya
Bloods, Bloods gonna get ya for that Shadyville chain
That 380 spill brains, when I pop shots
Outside NY, in front of hip-hop cops
Or broad day in L.A., I'ma tell Em and Dre
This nigga bootlegging my music, ain't nothing for him to say
Took me off my own songs, then put it on his tapes
So I'ma take him out his house, put the beam on his face
Drop him off at Terror Squad, let him scream for the jakes
'Cause when you fucking with Jayceon, you can bleed in the lake
For caking off niggaz on them CD's and tapes
Ask them to scratch a record, you will see he fake
If 50 was Puffy, you'd run and go get him a cheese cake
Take the DJ off your name, Mr. Instant replay
Not the instant replay
I mean the machine that G-Unit use every time 50 on stage singing like
Bitches only for your shit just a lil bit
niggaz only for your shit just a lil bit
On my album 50 helped me just a lil bit
Only on two songs, now back to some killer shit
My clips bananas, I kill a gorilla quick
Beating on your chest, I see to your death, yep
Tell Ecko to make him a suit
Tell Reebok to make him some boots
Get him a head band, to cover the holes in his head
He a dead man for thinking he can walk through muddy waters like Redman
Banks blacked out and let the gun blam without a M-E-T-H-O-D Man
So the lieutenant gotta ask for his strings
Take my advice, never wear air max for the game
Unless you one of the Bloods, or a Latin king
'Cause if your left with the Aryans your ass will sting
And your cell mate is a 25 to lifer
They will stab you in Folsom then fuck you on Rikers
And Life Goes On
Now back to the coward of the hour who lied and said he write my songs
He told Vibe Dre was gonna leave me on the shelf
So he gave me all his hits, you should've kept them for yourself
nigga stop acting tough before I stand over you
Show you how The Documentary live on top of The Massacre
Make a move I'm blasting your ass to the last one
Ten shots from the Mack empty the rest in the passenger
Fase yelling that's enough, let the coroner bag him up
Throw in Makaveli and lift the doors on the Maganum
Gun smoking, Fase think I'm locin' backing up
Reverse the '05 hearse on 41st and traffic, what
Hip-Hop cops on my left, but I pass 'em up
The Dodge got a hemmy in it, Game got a Remy in 'em
In and out of lanes like a New York cab
I miss the Old King, that New York had
Who's this fake nigga, on pictures with the Jake nigga?
Got his crew starving 'cause he ain't the whole cake, nigga
He ain't Nas, ain't B.I.G., ain't Jigga
If he ain't Cube or Pac then who you got?
We getting tired of you talking about who you shot
I'll use another six bars to tell you who you not
You ain't 50 Cent, he went out like a gangsta
You went out with Vivica, three months after wanksta
Get Rich or Die Trying, we thought you was hot
Now the same nigga wanna take us to the Candy Shop
C'mon man, what happened to the thug?
Now you could find in the club, him and Lloyd Banks hugging
nigga got mad when The Game start buzzing
So fuck making friends now I'm into throwing slugs
Olivia talking about we a family, Game had to go
nigga I'll smack that ho like I'm Jackie-O
'Cause I don't wanna be cool, I don't wanna be you
I don't wanna shake hands, or wear your G-Unit shoes
Don't want you on my hooks, don't wanna be in your group
Just wanna sit here and wait
To be gone, so I can head back to the block
Fresh white Nike airs and the matching socks fitted
Pull the brim low, if they don't get it
Bentley Coup on gold daytons, I was the first one with it
Four times platinum, I done been there and did it
Came in the game and shitted, then wiped my ass with it
They say the Lord Givth, if Lord take it away
So I build a house on top of Hip-Hop, I'll wait for the day
niggaz hating on me, they don't want Jayceon to play
And the DA waiting on Jayceon to make a mistake
So they can put me in the SWAT car and lock me away
Give me a odd job in the pen for minimum pay
Let me out so I can drive down criminal way
Pushing the rock, nah this ain't no subliminal Jay
The summer too hot, and I want the winter to stay
'Cause I'm a cold nigga when I put the pen to the page
Similar to them shells going into my gauge
I hand 'em off to Dre, he turned them into grenades
And Just Blaze, 'cause the boy got game
Like I close my eyes, and woke up in a Roc chain
Now back to reality, my gun and my vest
And if diamonds are forever, then I'm Kanye West
Take a look at my chest, a hundred thou wet Jacob
Whole crew got chains, a hundred thou can't break 'em
And the flow is hot like that wit Satan
And the only thing I got spinning is Daytons
The hotter I get the more willing to snake 'em
So soon as the beat drop, watch where I take 'em
Compton Swap meet, to get me some All-Stars
When Game in the house, they they calling all cars
'Cause they heard about what went on in D.C.
Heard about Hot 97, my beef with 50
Now tell me do he got a conscience?
I think not, 'cause if he did I wouldn't be involved in this nonsense
Wouldn't be in Harlem, wouldn't be at this conference
I'd rather be pushing rock, like ??
50 whispered in my ear, like we still bonding
We ain't friends, I'm just acting like Charles Bronson
Middle finger in the air, one hand on my Johnson
Hip-Hop police on me like I'm the convict
What happened to the old school? I thought it was rhyming
Doug E. Fresh and Dana Day on the corner like Common
Now that ain't common, it's more like Top Ramen
The flow is noodles, I throw it up like vomit
And I still shine like diamonds
They kicked me out of G-Unit and I rebounded like Rodman
It's still Aftermath, two feet in the paint, shit
I be mad, I ain't, I'm supposed to stop I can't because
I'm in the hood politican, Impala liftin'
And I keep a black .45 on the side of my prada denim
Chip on my shoulder like I'm fresh outta prison
Dollar vision, blow a hundred thou like my wallet missing
Then re-up like Kim before the d-cup
Continuously getting money with my feet up
Chasing the throne, here my black Air Force
I said fuck Benzino and got the cover of The Source
Feel me? If not then I guess you gotta kill me
But you ain't gon' do that so muthafucka move back
While I do B.I.G. and 'Pac impersonations on two tracks
When I wake the dead, everybody remove hats
We miss ya'll, can I get a hand clap?
Now back to rap, why I gotta stay strapped?
On that murder T-I-P, kill you ASAP
They won't know which hole to patch up, when the 'K' clap
I tried to spare you Young Buck, now it's time for payback
It go, how you from Cashville but you ain't got no cash nigga?
Say my name now that's your fucking ass nigga
Kept your mouth shut and I gave you a pass nigga
Now I gotta lay you down like the last nigga
Buck, buck, buck from my AK-47
This nigga playing with his life, I might have to put him in heaven
Tryna play the game, talking shit up on the stereo
Prepare for burial, it's when I'm reincarnating Harry-O
And you don't want that David 'cause you love your life
Get my Vibe, when it's war he pull out butter knifes
Motherfucker I'ma show you who the gangsta
All you do is Murder Inc., now who the wanksta?
When Suge had you, you were stranded on Tha Row
Juve left you for dead and went back to the NO
50 heard you on the tour bus and felt your little flow
Then he made you temporary replacement for Yayo
You a bitch, and that's hard to swallow
And you got robbed for your spinning G-Unit chain in Chicago
I call my nigga Jojo to get it back
He had the shit in his hands, and you ain't had the ten stacks
Picture that, I thought we was G-Unit
Then you ran and told 50 that I did that shit
Ask C-Murder, the boy ain't hard to find
I told Monica when I catch him The Boy is Mine
Take one shot of Brandy and pop
Watch his panties drop, when I run inside the Candy Shop
Fuck you, 50, Banks, Yayo, and the cops
And Olivia, I mean for a man she hot
Now I'm running out of breath, like I just beat boxed
Got 20 bars to go, lay it down like sheet rock
Don't worry about the flow, the boy know he hot
Hurricanes in store November, nigga fuck Reeboks
I'm fly like a Hummingbird on a tree top
The new Hov, the new B.I.G., the new 'Pac, I need three spots
280 in, ain't no getting me back
I'm yelling fuck the world, on my victory lap
Remember first it was Buddens, then it was Bleek
Now it's whoever motherfucker, yeah, who want beef?
Now whenever motherfucker, who wanna see me?
In the coffin, body exhausted, resting in peace
You don't want war nigga, you want peace
So give 'em the peace, capiche (sp?)
Let 'em rest in peace
From west to east the flow is outdatable, irreplaceable
Lyrical homicide, hell is hot, I'm boxing with Satan
And I slipped 'em the ace, you cannot replace 'em
If Eazy ever decide to return, I remain Jayceon
A king in the making, and the throne is for the taking
So I climb the mountain top and put my stake in
Got the weight of the world on my shoulder
Not a nigga nor a hood rat bitch can stop me from taking it over
This is crack music, go get the baking soda
300 Bars and Running, nigga the wait is over
I'm gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone gone
iki parçada anti g unit söylemler içeriyor
Bu mesaja 1 cevap geldi. Cevapları Gizle
Bu mesaja 1 cevap geldi. Cevapları Gizle
Bu mesaja 1 cevap geldi. Cevapları Gizle
Play The Game
The game
[Intro]
You niggas is soldiers man
Fuckin' toy soldiers
Yeah get in line cadet
Aten Hut!
Yayo you punk ass bitch.
I know you cant wait to get off house arrest nigga.
So you can run the fuck outta New York, you faggot
[Chorus]
Niggas tryna play the game with 50 Cent, 50 Cent, 50 Cent
Why you tryna play the game with 50 Cent, 50 Cent, 50 Cent
Can't play the game with only 50 Cent, 50 Cent, 50 Cent
So why you tryna play the game with only 50 Cent
Come back when you got a couple dollars holla.
[Verse 1]
You gonna need more than 50 Cent to play this game
Nigga hating on me cause I'm doin my own thang
I aint Lloyd Banks, bitch. I dont share your brain
I was in the fast lane before the G-Unit chain
You was hatin on Ja cause him and Irv went pop now your ass run around singing the Candy Shop
After 'Westside Story' I took your fans
I sing it for myself that bitch Olivia's a man.
I got word from the wise nigga you dead wrong
stole the real 50's name and wouldn't pay for his headstone
Nigga got mad when 'How We Do' start climbin, acting like a bitch cause he Got Rich and Stop Tryin'
Got niggas locked up you a snitch in Queens
Told them Touch shot Pac then ratted out Supreme
But on the rizeal im talkin about you and me
Toe to toe 5-0 C-E-N-T, faggot
Banks is a bitch, 50 is a bitch, Yayo is a bitch, Buck is a bitch, Olivia's a bitch... no Olivia's a man, haha. God damn
[Verse 2]
You reported more names than the evening news
I guess now Reebok making cement shoes
Yayo the only real mutha fucka from the street
You swinging on me like you want 5 heartbeats
Ok. One. Two. Three. Four, flat line
If you say you wrote my shit one more time
You ain't a hood nigga, you Got Rich and Stop Tryin
Jimmy scared Chris Lighty and he start lying
Lil' snitch what you know about movin' in silence?
Even NYPD can't deny it
The life of your story is fuckin' Vivica
But your baby mama left you cause you couldn't get it up, bitch
Yayo went to jail, Banks sold a mil, then Buck sold a mil, then 50 gave a deal to a bitch named Olivia whose titties aint real.
Now they all hiding behind the police shield
[Chorus]
[Outro]
G-G-G-G-you niggas aint shit, bitch ass niggas
I told you this shit was real, nigga
This is Fat Rat nigga, mutha fucka
All you get up on there is sing a few hooks
Nigga you wanna claim a niggas fame, nigga
You was our Ashanti, you bitch ass nigga
What the fuck is you talkin about you wrote something nigga
The Real is the real, nigga
Black Wallstreet, nigga
The Black Wallstreet, nigga
Gonna tell your bitch ass nigga
I aint gunna get up on this mic and play them games, nigga
I told my nigga lemme get that last 16, nigga
Im Rapping right now, nigga
But im spitting it real nigga
You know who im talkin to nigga
50, nigga
Bitch ass nigga
Black Wallstreet, nigga
Brasil and Wimelton
What block you on, nigga?
We'll be there!
What block you on?
Scary ass nigga
Fuck this shit man
Niggas woke me up with that bullshit, nigga.
Bşka g-unit diss istersenizde bnm için problem olmaz...
Bu mesaja 1 cevap geldi. Cevapları Gizle
burdan dinleyeblirsnz istersnz eğer bilmiyosanz...
Bu mesaja 1 cevap geldi. Cevapları Gizle
iiii yapmışsın kardeşim nasıl olsa herkez her parçayı bilmek zorunda değil
bu arada the game in son zamanlarda baya popülüterisi artıyor gibi,bende dahil birçok rap fanı insanlar bu adamın yaptığı rhyme ları beğeniyor tarzı fena sayılmaz,fakat birazda şişirme olarak görüyorum
bana göre yenilerden en iyisi diyebilirim fakat son zamanların en iyi albümüne nas(ben beğenmesemde) imza attı
< Bu mesaj bu kişi tarafından değiştirildi dmc_dmx_mim -- 25 Şubat 2007; 13:55:54 >
Bu mesaja 1 cevap geldi. Cevapları Gizle
So I fucked your bitch
You fat mutha-fucka {Take Money}
West Side
Bad Boy Killers {Take Money}
You know who the realist is
Niggas we bring it to {Take Money}
[ha ha, that's alright]
First off, fuck your bitch
And the click you claim
West side when we ride
Come equipped with game
You claim to be a playa
But, I fucked your wife
We bust on Bad Boys
Niggas fuck for Life
Plus Puffy tryin' to see me weak
Hearts I rip
Biggie Smalls and Junior Mafia
Some mark ass bitches
We keep on coming
While we running for yah jewels
Steady gunning
Keep on busting at them fools
You know the rules
Little Ceasar go ask you homie
How i'll leave yah
Cut your young ass up
See yah in pieces
Now be deceased
Little Kim,
Don't fuck with real ass G's
Quick to snatch your ugly ass, off the streets
So fuck peace
I'll let them niggas know
It's on for Life
Don't let the west side
Ride the night [ha ha]
Bad Boys murdered on Wax and kill
Fuck with me
And get your caps peeled
You know, See
Grab your glocks when you see 2pac
Call the cops when you see 2pac, Uhh
Who shot me,
But, your punks didn't finish
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit 'em up
Check this out
You mutha-fuckas know what time it is
I don't know why I'm even on this track
Y'all niggas ain't even on my level
I'm going to let my little homies
Ride on yah
Bitch made ass Bad Boys bitches
{ahh yo, yo, hold the fuck up}
Get out the way yo
Get out the way yo
Biggie Smalls just got dropped
Little move pass the mac
And let me hit 'em in his back
Frank White needs to get spanked right
For setting up traps
Little accident murderers
And I ain't never heard of yah
Poise less gats attack when I'm serving yah
Spank the shank
Your whole style when I gank
Gaurd your rank
Cause I'm a slam your ass in a pang
Puffy weaker than a fuckin' block
I'm running through nigga
And I'm smoking Junior Mafia
In front of yah nigga
With the ready power
Tucked in my Guess
Under my Eddie Bower
Your clout petty sour
I push packages ever hour
I hit 'em up
Grab your glocks when you see 2pac
Call the cops when you see 2pac, Uhh
Who shot me,
But, your punks didn't finish
Now, you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, We hit 'em up
Peep how we do it
Keep it real
Its penitentary steel
This ain't no freestyle battle
All you niggas getting killed
With your mouths open
Tryin' to come up off of me
You and the clouds hoping
Smoking dope
It's like a Shermine
Niggas think they learned to fly
But they burn mutha-fucka you deserve to die
Talking about you Getting Money
But its funny to me
All you niggas living bummy
While you fucking with me?
I'm a self made Millioniare
Thug livin', out of prison
Pistols in the Air {Air} [Ha Ha]
Biggie remember when I use to let you sleep on the couch
And beg the bitch to let you sleep on the house
Now its all about versace
You copied my style
Five shots couldn't drop me
I took it and smiled
Now I'm back to set the record straight
With my A-K
I'm still the thug that you love to hate
Mutha-fucka I'll Hit 'Em Up
I'm from N E W jers.
Where plenty of murders occurs
No points to come
We bring drama to all you herds
Now go check the scenerio
Little Ceas'
I'll bring you fake G's to yah knees
Copin' pleas with these [???]
Little Kim is yah
Coked up or doped up
Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up
What the fuck?
Is you stupid?
I take money,
crash and mash through Brooklyn
With my click looting, shooting, and polluting your block
With fifteen shot,
Cocked glock to your knot
Outlaw Mafia click moving up another knotch
And your [?"Pop stars" pops?] and get dropped and mopped
And all your fake ass east coast props
Brainstormed and locked
You's a B-writer
Pac style taker
I'll tell you to face, you ain't nothing shit but a faker
Soften the Alize with a chaser
Bout to get murdered for the paper
Idi Amin approach the scene of the caper
Like a loc, with little Ceas' in a choke [uhh]
Toting smoke, we ain't no mutha-fuckin' joke
Thug Life, niggas better be known
Be approaching
In the wide open, gun smoking
No need for hoping
It's a battle lost
I gottem crossed as soon as the funk is boping off
Nigga, I hit 'em up
Now you tell me who won
I see them, they run [ha ha]
They don't wanna see us
Whole Junior Mafia click
Dressing up to be us
How the fuck they gonna be the Mob?
When we always on out job
We millionaire's
Killing ain't fair
But somebody got to do it
Oh yah Mobb Deep [uhh]
You wanna fuck with us
You Little young ass mutha-fuckas
Don't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or something
You fucking with me, nigga ?
You fuck around and catch a siezure or a heart-attack
You better back the fuck up
Before you get smacked the fuck up
This is how we do it on our side
Any of you niggas from New York that want to bring it,
Bring it.
But we ain't singing,
We bringing drama
Fuck you and your mother fucking mama.
We gonna kill all you mother fuckers.
Now when I came out, I told you it was just about biggie.
Then everybody had to open their mouth with a mother fuckin opinion
Well this is how we gon' do this:
Fuck Mobb Deep,
Fuck Biggie,
Fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label, and as a mother fuckin crew.
And if you want to be down with Bad Boy,
Then fuck you too.
Chino XL, fuck you too.
All you mother fuckers,
Fuck you too.
(take money, take money)
All of y'all mother fuckers,
Fuck you, die slow mother fucker.
My fo' fo' (.44 magnum) make sure all yo' kids don't grow.
You mother fuckers can't be us or see us.
We mother fuckin' Thug Life riders.
West Side till' we die.
Out here in California, nigga
We warned ya'
We'll bomb on you mother fuckers.
We do our job.
You think you the mob, nigga, we the mother fuckin' mob
Ain't nuttin' but killers
And the real niggas, all you mother fuckers feel us.
Our shit goes tripple and four quadruple
You niggas laugh cuz our staff got guns under they mother fuckin' belts
You know how it is and we drop records they felt
You niggas can't feel it
We the realist
Fuck 'em.
We Bad Boy killas.
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yorumlar nerde
amerikada atışmaysa türkiyedede mi illa öyle olcak ama bazı havalanan rapçiler mesela fuat ergin hep başkalarına laf atıyo hemde sebepsiz yere ama ceza ve sagopa bozuştukları için birbirlerine laf atıyolar
< Bu mesaj bu kişi tarafından değiştirildi nieve -- 26 Şubat 2007; 16:56:11 >
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Ya tabiki kimse kafasina gore sarki sozu yazamas ve rap yapamas!!!Ceza,sagopa,fuatlar filan onlar kendine gore rap yaptiklarini saniyorlar ama bos lafla karin doymaz icinde ne bir anlam var ne de bisey bu da rap sa bide arkadaslar grupca bir RAP album cikaralim ne dersiniz iyi olmaz mi
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