DJ Kay Slay - Free Again (feat. 50 Cent & Fat Joe) | Текст песни

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• DJ Kay Slay
• Free Again (feat. 50 Cent & Fat Joe)

[Hook: RZA]
Free
It's goin' down, d-d-down, it's goin' down
Free
It's goin' down, d-d-down, it's goin' down
I move rhymes like retail, make sure shit sell
From where we at to my man's cell
I move rhymes like retail, make sure shit sell
From where we at to my man's cell
Free

[Verse 1: Fat Joe]
Straight outta cell 12 a hell fell on my lap
A nigga was born to rap 'bout drug tales and all the rats
This is for Chef Jr., now that's Italiana
Chicken Parmesan and bocce with my Pizanas
I told my [?] I'll die with my honor
Six bad bitches, some marijuana, with [?]
If you could see the pictures and the scriptures that these bitches sent me
Hopped in the Ghost, my wiz jumped in the sister Bentley
When Suge had the Row, Jay start the Roc
I was in the [?] fuck the cops
With the killer cross, had Iverson on the block
Graced the cover of The Source, tell me that ain't hot
When in for RICO, kilos, wish they gave me the max
Fuck them T.O.'s, and [?] for hatin' new crack
Four months on the toilet shit, I can do that
Came with thirty, left with three, now how the fuck he do that?
Most these niggas in the Fed shoulda been in the State
[?] the Texas to Brazil, now we raisin' the stakes
I seen Gordouli, know that nigga big like Chapo
Shout out to you know who, let me fuck in the chapel
[?], first thing in the mornin'
Tried to send me to the shoe for the first pair of Jordans
I had a thing for the secretary, wassup Ms. Jordan?
All that ass in them pants had you feelin' important
Left with J's on my feet, J's, J's on my feet
Straight out the cage, sun raised on the beach
And I ain't got to lie, my son raised on the beach
Crib with the elevator, Gabe on the piece

[Hook: RZA]

[Verse 2: 50 Cent]
Gun choke, move dope, niggas know my repertoire
Bulletproof smart car, level six AR
Cocktail, Molotov, burn heat, turn heat
Revolve, cock, bang, revolve, it's off
Cocaine, medating, codeine better lean
The fuck out my way, drive the bricks down the highway
Its an anthem when I rant, fuck you think I am, Kanye?
I had them wearing vests, now these niggas wear dresses
I take you back to the essence, free of charge a nigga so large, these niggas is stretching, I bless 'em
The pounds the purple with profits precise
With precision, we'll move you up the pillar, you get that right
Money motivation, this bread in the basket
Go ahead, say something 'bout it while you gettin' your ass kicked
Niggas back on the New York bullshit
My little man post up in the bank with a full clip, he let it off

[Hook: RZA]

[Outro: Barbra Streisand]
Free again
Back to bein' free again
Back to bein' me again
With all my precious freedom
My precious, precious freedom

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