Количество артистов: 43,846 Количество текстов песен: 642,600
Количество артистов: 43,846 Количество текстов песен: 642,600
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Артист: The Outfit (Baby Jay, Lickel Reg, CheddaНазвание : Die 3Данные: текст песни / слова песни Жанры : Видео:
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I know what you thought.. Die 3, Die 3 - you fuckin with me, Die 3 Die 3, Die 3 - you fuckin with me, Die 3 Yeah Die 3, Die 3 - when you fuckin with me, Die 3 Ya ya, ya ya, ya ya.. (Pussies! You know what I`m talkin about?) (Those two bitches I fucked with, you feel me?) Yo, yo (Really, reality - they ain`t feminine, you feel me?) (Uhhhhh, I don`t know what the fuck.. I ought to even tell y`all about them faggots man) Fuck it, tell `em [Verse One] I don`t know how to begin to tell ya how we had provolone cheese, muenster, swiss, mozzarella Bad light skinned bitches, call `em Old Yeller Snitch to your girl, bitches call `em hoe-tellers Trust me, any nigga talk about us don`t know better Never heard them tales how we throw them shells And how we never seen again after we post our bail Need twenty million nigga just to close my deal You know why? I think big, Alpha motto gotta think kid Get dough until it`s leakin like Cheese Whiz Beef be the salsa, murder somethin gotta do Even if it haunts ya Cats attack nice guys, scared of the monsters Alpha nigga ride with it, side with it, or die by it Bitch [Chorus] Die 3, Die 3 Die 3 Die 3 Why you fuckin with me? Die 3, Die 3 Die 3 Die 3 Why you fuckin with me? Die 3, Die 3 Die 3 Die 3 Why you fuckin with me? Die 3, ya ya, ya ya, ya ya (Chedda Boy, take it man) [Verse Two: Chedda Boy] Uhh, nine times out of ten I lay back and watch the world spin I hit it first now I`m gettin at her girlfriend That`s the Chedda Boy for ya, look black? But the crib filled with Goya, Sassoon and Adobo You don`t know we put six on doors Dick to whores, talk slick I click the four Spit for all my bad, and straight to plate grinders Shoot craps with old timers, and beg for knowledge Let it soak in, Chedda Boy done focusin I know you noticed when, I used to hustle records Now I hustle the wheel, of a big Lexus I`m the thing in the hood, these bitches wanna sex this Young, well connected, Outfit rider Never switch side up, until the crossroad divide us We gon` hold it down cousin, and the hood is buzzin Chedda Boy this, and Chedda Boy that And I`m glad it ain`t crack [Chorus] [Verse Three: Crisis] Like Khalid Muhammad, the O-U-T heed the drama If a nigga want me, he gon` see dalima(?) Crisis, the heater palmer, I rolls a bead upon ya Kidnap your morticianist before he enbalm ya Better be thankful that you got me to warn ya You gon` need some armor, plus weed to calm ya The painkillers we the game`s realest G`s with honor Strike like a Giaconna while you scream for momma The theme of horror, we livin in dividend chasin Racin, we impatient First off, this is for guns that burst off And when (?) throws, leavin they foes the worse off You be lucky if I let you get a verse off Your raps is weak, your gats don`t leak, nigga you`re soft And second, I`m reppin with a automatic weapon Shit get more dramatic when we step in, the army {*violin music gradually fades out*} | Похожие исполнители: |
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