Количество артистов: 43,846 Количество текстов песен: 642,600
Количество артистов: 43,846 Количество текстов песен: 642,600
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Артист: Flipmode SquadНазвание : Straight Spittin`Данные: текст песни / слова песни Жанры : hip-hop rap hip hop east coast rap usa hip hop Видео:
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Flipmode Squad _The_Imperial_ I`ll bust all you cats in the game for malpractice I`m in Jersey, where I`m paying no taxes I`ll stick your girl, Agnus Flipmode bring the madness Platinum status, Rampage I`m the baddest Check the credit, yo you might as well dead it I said it, fuck the edit, it`s uncut Nigga what, it`s crunch time for me to shine I`m a show you easily for me to take mines Pass my nickel plated nine, call me Einstein Buck a shot two times and stick you for your rhyme Put you in a pine box You and your whole family`s on detox Hustlin crack for Reeboks Holy socks, cut you with my ox Rampage got the city locked and your function, to the Flat Bush junction Causin rambunction, watch me do you somethin Baby Sham on some new shit New and exclusive 5`3", Caramel, tight grip on a four fifth Leave em all stiff, blow smoke from this foul drift Nigga with the 6 story, throw em off the cliff As I speak the shit to put my name on the list The small thug with a slug put a mark on his wrist A tattoo of pyramids, puttin hollows in clips Peeped your gat, jammed tight, Ross your lookin to riff (what the fuck?) QB`s type shit, cause we runnin your clique See me in the drop, with your six, sayin she snitched But never that, cuz-o, high beam through the window My lookouts move slow, they heard you never blast though Got a safe in your crib, sham, you know the code Search, spoke out, 3, 2, 1, that`s zero Took the c notes and flip mode left on the quietest note Swallowed these then cleared your throat Bitch ass, you should have spoke *GIMMIE AN F* Fuck the bullshit, fire my gun Fly a nigga head, fuck it for fun Fuck where you from *GIMMIE AN L* Layin on beaches, killin all leeches Love to break a liar face Pick up the pieces, yo *GIMMIE AN I* Intelligence eliminates all irrelavance Icon of immaculate rhyme common sense *GIMMIE A P* Powerful professional Poppin my pistol Make a pack of people paranoid like 20 pitbulls *GIMMIE AN M* Master of all missions Maker of decisions Head on collisions Massacre the meat rack, ask the women *GIMMIE AN O* Got niggas open, open heart surgery Rhyme so official, overthrow governments Shit is nursery *GIMMIE A D* Diggin my dick all inside your chick Dominate the heavyweight division Rhymin district *GIMMIE AN E* Everlasting slang Eternal ebonics Lyrical e-mail Stabalize livin in all my economics *SQUAD* Group of men, women Unified force Squadron Movin like one in unison Beg your pardon What they call me A hundred on a Harley Out of nowhere, and keep you surfin like Brawley(sp?) Narley! I`m the bitch with the pistol Woody Woodpecker or L.L. at the Bristol Official stand, hold it down in Trent Then link up at the tunnel with the rest of my camp Paper like Meade, I`m in the mix like Speed And be screamin on the mic till my tonsils bleed Yeah that`s the way it is Like when a kid get chirstened Like comin to the bricks to find your whip missin Rockin uptown, on down to west Howston Houston, peace to my bitches that`s boostin After juicin, I`m a straight black ball a rapper Tap a nigga`s nerves like them hackers Be goin on the modem, I get the call from the dispatcher Then show them mother f`ers what I`m after Yo I back slap a wack mc for trying to be Something he not, pull his card, blow up his spot Nigga talkin bout murder but ain`t committin one Niggas talkin bout gats but ain`t bustin one Yo, I see you in the (?) portayin like you a thug Yea, your man got a gatt, but he ain`t bustin no slug You You`s a local black spokesman, I split your front open Viscious knife wound, fucked up like Ron Goldman Spliff, I spit, fully equipped for any bullshit Grew up with the bad and ugly, quick to pull shit Ignorant, vulgar, on your taperecorder Idol to your son and probably lover to your daughter Fatman son, wilted grandson, (?) nephew, Frank the cousin --MORE--(82%) *Uh huh, one more time, uh huh, Spliff, come on* Bust my gun, like Columbians Make niggas colapse like fucked up lungs Better obey the laws of the land Or lay still like soldiers of fortune in Nam Closed coffin with flags folded in half Triangular shape, blow out the candles with grace For fabulous tastes, some will, battle for space Pay the ultimate price, poltergeist Put the holy ghost in your life, bring you closer to Christ Focus your dice, when the vulture`s in flight Resculpture the mic, then smash heads like the opium bite Prophet in vein, Metropolis claim body and soul ID`s controlled in the optical frame Never stoppin the game Remove your squad with steady plans I body slam punks like Superstar Billy Gramm *Straight spittin...word is bond...Flip Mode Squad...Striaght Spittin...Lyrical Ass Whippin...We straight Spittin....* | Похожие исполнители:
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