Buddha Monk - Make This Money, Take This Money - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

Make This Money, Take This Money

Buddha Monk

Zu-Chronicles, Vol. 1: Throwbacks

69

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Intro: Ol' Dirty Bastard, (I-Born)] KnowI'msayin? (U.K.) You know what the fuck time it is! KnowI'msayin? These the Brooklyn Zu motherfuckers! You know who the fuck this is! It's the Dirt Dog and I represent all this shit! Motherfuckers! KnowI'msayin? I hold all this shit the fuck down! KnowI'msayin? Anybody got any motherfuckin problems?!? You see me nigga, motherfucker! [Hook 4X: I-Born *in background of intro*] Raise drama, spark war I keep the gat singin, slug love We go through nuff slang [Chorus x.25: Ol' Dirty Bastard] We gonna make this money and take this money! Make this money and take this money! Make this money and take this money! Make this money and take this money! [I-Born] What the fuck was on these niggas mind? Buzzer be the crunch time, cuts feelin like ice grillers Stalk the gat, carbon spark, talk burners Mic murder fiends, dangerous strangers Red beam dot, hoes return, rapid fire when the po' lick shot Spit where the wigs top, get got, hot Roof top marksman, heat hittin, grapevine, listen Charles Lee, great ski thought, just because Fuck jake, inter-state, D takes he, judge street Court, king sees thought, lot of life trife Complete, dirty life, dirty dirty dirty beef Servin worthy streets, holdin holster heat for chaos Mega-butterfly, wings crawler, dust strong, cut strong Get 'em all, fuckin with teflon [Shyheim] Fuckin with me? The God have handicap plates Arrogant, I'm like a pimple I come all out my face Thug thesbian, yo semi the Shy hold two heats I'm like the ASPCA, I put dogs to sleep Ten cars deep plus three limos and a hurse All because he was a Sprite kid obeyin his thirst Keep him runnin like adrenaline, I could smoke a hundred men And when he go to Heaven, who'll kill him again? Ask anybody in my hood, they could a ref cuz I'm bad I died once, escape my second life sentence [Chorus] [ShaCronz] I play the four-fifth of this outfit Cronz 'bout it, 'bout it, for dough I live Faggots off the streets when it's crowded Master breath control, make the death toll rise Stress calls in pies, watch the Lex go by Baby brown Wallabees, spray towns into policy Bugged, not anthropology, watch the world acknowledge me Cronz Dada, went from zero to Don When I'm done bustin, the whole police hero respond [12 O'Clock] Nigga know my steez, so I jet to D.C Chromed down M3, nigga that play B.E.T John Clair, why these faggot ass niggas stare? Don't they know my man carry the big bear? He don't care They say he hold nigga's fruit like pear, pussy come here Let me whisper in your ear, I make your click disappear I play the wizard, bring blizzards Fo'-fo' heavy when I lift it, Puffy shit I diss it [Chorus]
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