Trae Tha Truth - All That I Know (ft. Mystikal, Tech N9ne & Brian Angel) | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Trae Tha Truth
• All That I Know (ft. Mystikal, Tech N9ne & Brian Angel)

[Verse 1:Mystikal]

Shit, what I do..?
The bitches shuffle to the front when I come
Clap your hand & stomp your foot to the rhyme cougar
Roll the die hit the blunt
Listen to the rhythm of the rapper, ass whooper
I click-clack like a gat, spitta
Broke up with my rap, but I'm back with her
Don't fuck with my greens, or
You don't want the Hulk to get mad nigga?!
Nigga...nigga...
With a motherfucking man right here
Nigga nigga put his foot in your shit, or
Make a nigga slap in your ass, kisser
Let that nigga do the little song
Write it to the music, feel it work it
Soon as Trae e-mail me the beat
I'mma take it to the booth and I'mma kill it, murk it
Curse it, bless it, church it, cash it, change it, purse it
Tell them niggas that I'm back on the block
And I got them killer verses
Tell em to sell em the one for ten
I'd let them go, two for five
Either way, I'mma get that ten
Or you want none of these rhymes
Long as I murder these shows
And herd all these hoes
Shorty don't go
And I don't have to be working that lows
I rock jewelry that glows
With a rap name, twenty years old
Shit, what else can I say? Fuck, that's all that I know!

[Hook]

[Verse 2:Trae]
I am the street king, took a minute to lock shit
My image is a gun play, you ain’t gon' block shit
Ova'dose in my hand, tell ‘em I can’t feel 'em
Diamonds all over my fingers, that be on Ciroc shit
I been livin’ all playa', ever since shit off
Haters on my dick, like women, they’d better get off
You can find me in the gutter, scared of heights
Sitting on a couple of mil, money tall I’m trying to get off
Clique like brothers, tell ‘em to give ‘em the blues
Recievin' the call of competition I won’t lose
I’m a fool, when I lace these shoes with these tools
Leavin' niggers abused, of something off in the crew
Speakin' of crews, tell me what’s on that new
Used to kick it one thing, now hoes come in the two's
When I’m finna black murder, shoulda been on the news
Shoot ‘em in they face, and leave 'em with no clues
Go up to the boulevard walkin’ in all glass
Tell the bank-teller person I’ll count it in all cash
Everybody be talkin' but I'mma pull up and show ‘em somethin’, and go to wreckin' shit like I been in a bad crash
In the hood, I’m access for real
Ask Eazy, he’ll tell ya that I was Trill
Million dolla' mouthpiece, one hell of a grill
I thug Universal, don’t sweat it I got a deal
Anybody wanna' run up I’ll tell ‘em I’m in this bitch
If a hater got a problem I’m probly up in his bitch
You all want truth, you gon’ find him up in a ditch
I’ll bang his ass up like tracks when I’m makin' hits
You can tell ‘em I’m sick, rare form of cancer
I am the truth, I guarantee you the answer
Anybody who lookin’ tell ‘em to look no more
If I don’t get the proper respect, I’m kickin' they door

[Hook]

[Verse 3: Tech N9ne]

I be in the corner with the bitches
Off in the club I be grantin' many wishes
All the haters be super suspicious
As to why they sniffin’ I make super digits
Makin' beautiful music and then a bita' aphrodisiac to get bitches to swoon
But I catch em' quick with these incredible tunes
Me stickin' poon will be inevitable soon
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha
I'll be laughin' at these busters
Think they smashin' and we suckas
But we blastin' at these fuckers
Trippin' over colours you niggas you gotta love us no matter the set ima get up and rip 'em into pieces
He's beneath me and needs to be treated like a fleet with a beast and believe he's heated
Because of my talent they mad
And I'm neva gonna challenge they ass
Cause my balance for nada pay cash
You suckas down there
But my wallet's ain't bad
Motherfucker like Sam-U-el L
You perpetrators im

Trae Tha Truth еще тексты