.B.O.S.S. - Live Freestyle 2014 | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• .B.O.S.S.
• Live Freestyle 2014

[Verse One: Scoob]
Check it, check it, check it, check it
This here for the motherfuckin record
Here we here we here we go, here we here we go
Can I can I can I kick a motherfuckin flow
Chitty chitty bang bang, I chitty bang bang
Motherfuckin niggaz cant hang
Well oh no, look at the cloud, its gonna rain
But I dont give a fuck Im lettin niggaz know they cant hang
Dont give me no lip, dont give me no backtalk, yeah break north
Dont make me get my gun and blow your motherfuckin head off
Once again, niggaz know my style, God dammit
Unless its on the cut so give me the mic and watch me slam it
Hard like shaquille, oh you better kneel
When you see me comin, big scoob got em runnin
Sex when I flex I catch wreck on the world tour
With dough in my pockets big like the biscuits, in cb4
Set up a contest, Im comin, Im takin the dough
They wouldnt pick you even if you had a afro
So dont try me, you better walk by me
Ill do you like the first part in menace ii society
Like cypress hill, yo, Im insane
Ill shoot a hole in your toe
Ill make you jump like the house of pain
Bang biggy bang biggy bang bang
Niggaz cant hang, niggaz cant hang
Bang biggy bang biggy bang bang, motherfuckin niggaz cant hang..

[Verse Two: Notorious B.I.G.]
One two, one two, gonna do it like this
Where brooklyn at, where brooklyn at
Where brooklyn at, where brooklyn at
We gonna do it like this
Anytime youre ready, check it
I got seven mack 11s, about eight 38s
Nine 9s, ten mack tens, the shits never ends
You cant touch my riches
Even if you had mc hammer and them 357 bitches
Biggie smalls; the millionare, the mansion, the yacht
The two weed spots, the two hot glocks
Thats how I got the weed spot
I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the lamb spread
Little gotti got the shotty to your body
So dont resist, or you might miss christmas
I tote guns, I make number runs
I give mcs the runs drippin
When I throw my clip in the ak, I slay from far away
Everybody hit the d-e-c-k
My slow flows remarkable, peace to matteo
Now we smoke weed like tony montana sniffed the llello
Thats crazy blunts, mad ls
My voice excels from the avenue to jail cells
Oh my god, Im droppin shit like a pigeon
I hope youre listenin, smackin babies at they christening

[Verse Three: Tupac Shakur]
Yeah where the motherfuckin thugs at?
Throw your motherfuckin middle finger
We gonna do this shit like this
I thank the lord for my many blessings, never stressin
Keep a vest for protection, from the barrel of a smith & wesson
And all my niggaz in the pen, here we go again
Aint nuttin separatin us from a mack-10
Born in the ghetto as a hustler, told ya
A straight soldier, buckin at the bustaz
No matter how you try, niggaz never die
We just retaliate with hate, then we multiply
You see me strikin down the block, hittin corners
Mobbin like a motherfucker, livin like I - wanna
And aint no stoppin at the red lights, Im sideways
Thug life motherfucker crime, pays!
Let the cops put they lights on, chase me nigga
Zig zaggin through the freeway, race me nigga
In a high speed chase with the law
The realest motherfucker that you ever saw

[Verse Four: Shyheim]
Yo, this goes out to everybody from staten island
{*ah mister cee, and you dont stop*}
Yo, times is gettin hard, word is bond, I swear to god
I even got caught tryin to steal from the junkyard
A born terror, a rebel without a pause
I never had a good christmas, so who is santa claus?
I walk the streets at night with my head down
In this lil town you see clowns that wanna be down
So they get a glock and lick shots to get props
And when shit rocks all you can hear when the shells drop
An old man got shot in the parkin lot
In front of my buildin I hang with his grandchildren
And for the nigga that pulled the trigga then tried to slide
And hide, but he got knocked by the homicide

.B.O.S.S. еще тексты