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Артист: M-ChildНазвание : Point `Em Out, Take `Em OutДанные: текст песни / слова песни Жанры : rap g-funk memphis tennessee memphis rap Видео:
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We them thugs from the south (south!), `bout to turn it out (out!). We them thugs from the south (south!), `bout to turn it out (out!). We them thugs from the south (south!), `bout to turn it out (out!). Point `em out, take `em out, Point `em out, take `em out. [M-Child] Who I be, M-C-H-I-L, motherfucking D, Erase the motherfucker who be talking about me. Point `em out, take `em out, we do it so easily, Everybody know the clique is the Kamikaze I.E. Everybody know I`m from my hood that they come O.M.P., While my niggas count they money while chiefin` on brocolli. Keep a pistol on my hip for you bitches with jealousy, Quickly, D.I.E., my nigga, they history. MC Mack and Scan Man, we taking over the land, With a Gon` Madd plan, the bitches don`t understand. `cause doubt it all time, eliminate who I can, Take you bitches off the earth, sink `em like fucking quicksand. It`s whatever down south, hoe, Check out my new album, hoe. Nigga with that atom, point `em out and take `em out, hoe. Kamikaze niggas down for W.A.R. Ride up on you with some heat, `cause a bitch you never ball, Take `em out, nigga. [Chorus x2] [Nigero] Shooting them things at your head, no one has shot ch`nigga, Nothing but high-bullet lead coming out of them bitch` triggers. Roll back, that Nigero, they get to mind a building, Stealing you bitches lives, nigga, blood spill, I`m nigga of the blood sport, inside short, nigga rough ride or you, Forty-four calibur, this you gon` happen to, Stumble on yourself when you enter my zone, Or cross my path of blood bath, feel my force, My rap bunking round after round, low-down, dirty sucka` thug, Blood-shot red eyes, realize you `bout to get slugged. The mug, the chest, to back, this boy just come back, Annihilation, you`ll get connection, killed when I come back. Now whippin` those step in this direction; you getting murdered. Point this nigga out, I`m in the mood to put some hurt or some punishment, On the suckers, reruckers to motherfuckers, in the misdemean. Lay down, nigga, you history. [Chorus x2] [M-Child] That microphone, you need to drop it, To a nigga that`s gon` rock it, Keep the club bouncing-jumping, Until money bounce out they pockets. Quit tripping off your face, Kamikaze in the place, Best believe me all about a million dollar paper chase. Ain`t no nigga stopping, you can try your opportunity be free, Why you niggas off the Memphis streets be always muggin` me? Just because you finally bought a Chevy and some gold teeth, Now you claiming killa`, but bentley, you still a hoe to me. [Nigero] Nigga be the first to disperse those so just sit back and shiva`, Fearin` this Kamikaze nigga, scared to hell of shells I deliver. No need for no mess, on the game show, my identity.. It`s personal, get off your knees, hoe; that was some diggity. Quit swinging, shakin` pacin`; what, you nervous? You restless? You gutless, you heartless, I might as well make you chestless. The richest world will get your ribs lost and filled, With bullets; make a move, get killed, nigga. [Chorus x2] | Похожие исполнители:
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