Количество артистов: 43,846 Количество текстов песен: 642,600
Количество артистов: 43,846 Количество текстов песен: 642,600
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Артист: Big Pokey f Billy CookНазвание : Throwed-N-Da GameДанные: текст песни / слова песни Жанры : Видео:
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Oooooh-oooh, Iiiiiiiiii`m so throwed, in the game In the two triple O, Po-Yo, Billy G, aaaaaaaay [Hook: Billy Cook - 2x] I`m so thoed in the game All the haters wanna know my name I`m pushing weight, to leveling the game Open up your eyes, and see the fame [Big Pokey] I`m so, thoed in the game Blood and sweat, got a nigga feeling the pain Moving like a freight train, and ain`t looking back Trying to make the big head stack, feel that Open your eyes, I`m a wolverine on the rise Mobbing like Wise Guys, my eyes on the prize Recognize, it`s a hell of a feeling It`s cathedral ceilings, I`m building and shuffling shilling Trying to touch a million, `fore my time is up I ain`t touched it yet, so I ain`t blind enough And the playa haters agitated, cause the figgas I done calculated, I put it in they face laminated Nonstop, let em know my guns chop And if it`s on, I`ma make they lungs stop Snitches, I`ma snatch they tongue out Oooh yeah, know I`m talking bout [Hook: Billy Cook - 2x] [Big Pokey] I`m a playa, lose corners checking my trap Hitting gaps like Warren Sapp, trying to make something happ`n Day for day with it, on the block getting paid with it Twenty fo` seven, I stay with it I don`t play with it, I pump it nigga Laws come dumping, all the neers gate and jumping nigga Get my bail on, head home and get my cell phone So I could re-up, and get my mail on This ain`t the first time, I lost my do` Or toss my do`, as long as I ain`t lost my hoe Can`t cry over spilled milk, just jump on my game And make my gears shift, real swift I`m a threat, one of the realest you ever met If I`m trading a set, with a brick and some wet In the big body Lex on dubs, pop pushed up Sitting low on the dubs, nigga what [Hook: Billy Cook - 2x] [Big Pokey] All I need is a three beam, and coffee mug to shake Big bag of weight, compressed and duct taped Peep the print on it, K-9 can`t get a scent on it Bust that hoe down, and let the fleas get bent on it My hustle, I`ve been known it for deep Keep my game concrete, cement under my feet Head up, moving in the right direction Knowing I can make a mill, with the right connection Mob Style through Texas, a A-1 selection And I spit the truth, like a sinner in confession Hauling wessins, waiting for something to jump First nigga to bump, will catch a hot one in his gum Get your paper by all means, gotta survive Working this crack of construction, from nine to five But it`s my time to shine, I`ma blind they eyes Knocking my rides off like french fries, supersized [Hook: Billy Cook - 2x] | Похожие исполнители: |
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