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Артист: Method ManНазвание : BlackoutДанные: текст песни / слова песни Жанры : hip-hop rap wu-tang hip hop new york Видео:
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[Redman] It`s Funk Doc Where da weed at, bitch?! I speed back wist, down to one-way from cops See thas` shit?! Believe thas` shit! Slaughter straight to camcorder, I`m too hot for t.v. Backdraw water, my windpipes attached to Project-ballers You yell: "Turn the heat down!" My voice, divi-di-round-sound, some heard round town And chances are ya`ll leavin`, round now Wait later, will make Funk page paper Date Raper with juveline 8th Graders Hit the High School at 187 Caesar When I bust ya`ll need to back 4 acres Doc ya`ll and that`s my man JabberJaw The shitlist ready, who next to scratch off? I`m from the underground, my soundlib Platform shoes to bitches, 400 pounds! [Chorus]: Meth & Red GET UP, STAND UP, BACK UP, PUSH UP JUMP UP, ACT UP TO MAKE YOU FEEL IT! Brrrrr...STICK `EM, HA-HAHA STICK `EM Brrrrr...STICK `EM, HA-HAHA STICK `EM Yo` BLACKOUT, SHOOT OUT, SMOKED OUT MOVE OUT, EVEN KNOCK YA TOOTH OUT, TO MAKE YA`LL FEEL IT! Brrrrr...STICK `EM, HA-HAHA STICK `EM Brrrrr...STICK `EM, HA-HAHA STICK `EM [Meth] Now I`m the streettalkin`, dogwalkin` Approach me with extreme caution, OH NOW YOU FORCIN`? My hand that rock yo` cradle often I`m hot-scorchin`, but stone cold like Steve Austin If you smell what Tical cookin`, ain`t tryin` to see central bookin` So til ya gon` stop lookin`, know what you did last summer? So I started hookin`, you past shookin` Offer open can of ass-whoopin`? Ain`t no tomorrow`s in the Method`s Little Shop Of Horrors Go ask your father who the father from the (Park)Hill to (Mariners)Harbor You know tha saga, marijuana blunts and Goldschlager With deadly medley, ya`ll ain`t ready for Shakwon and Reggie Don`t even bother, to radio for back-up Alright then, ya man got slapped up extorted for his icin` Streetlife is triflin` *Body over here...! Nigga pull a Tyson and bite a nigga` ear Precisin`, slicin` juggerless the cut-crew Ruggeder, Predator, Viking, excetera People`s champ, niggaz be takin` off competetors Reachin` for the microphone, relax and light a bone Straight from the Catacombs The Children Of The Corn, that don`t got a clue Prepare for desert storm! [Chorus] I scored 1.1 on my SAT And still push a whip with a right and left AC Gorilla, Big Dog, if my name get called I`m behind the brickwall with arsenic Jars Spit poison, got a gun permit draw Gundown at Sundown you keep score! This training-course and ya`ll ain`t fit On my crew-tombstone put `We All Ain`t Shit` [Meth] Yo`, all you gonna be, wanna be When will you learn? Wanna be Doc and Meth? Gotta wait ya turn I spit a .41 Revolver on New Year`s Eve With the mic in my hand I mutilate m.c.`s The most slept on since Rip Van Wink My shit stink with every element from A to Zinc So what you think? I`m a blackout on just one drink? You must be crazy! A little off the wall maybe Go get a shrink... [Chorus] | Похожие исполнители:
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