Chuck Inglish - Tangerine - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Verse 1: Chuck] This shit'll make your girl hang my poster on her wall These little shooters get it, spend it all at the mall Wearing white Air Forces to the church and the prom Been serving all week so it's all he got on Dog, my nigga sagging with the burner T-shirt picture of somebody who was murdered Pour a 40 on the curb, caught a charge with the turnup Nextel with the chirper, selling nickel bags of purp' WorldStar niggas, straight up out the trap He got money off the shits but he really can't rap He got him a connect and he got that bag And in broad daylight, he shoot the shit out the strap Though he got it all backwards, you can't tell him shit If he had a thousand dollars, probably try to buy a brick He got it in a mattress, he never had a bank I just try to keep 'em safe, man that's how they play the game [Hook: Kashflow] Block work, all in my demeanor White girl, '93 Bimmer This base make ya face go numb Yea I got it and I got it by the drum And my shooters got drums And the money gon' come And them chickens gon' run Yea I got it and I got it by the drum [Verse 2: Aston Matthews] Young nigga, chopper shells with the morning breath Rocked the diamonds dipped in crystal meth, hit the set Grip the Tec, it's war time, it's target practice You owe dimes, we charge your address Run up in it, wipe that whole bitch out Pray yo mom ain't in it, check before he left out Hollow tips, hold 'em off, no remorse Just 501s with tall tees to tuck the torch Young and reckless, he ain't want ya bitch, he want ya necklace Get yo neck split, never coming in with what he left with Keep the 7 like Leftwich One question: do you got a death wish? No goals, face tats with no future [SoHo?], stay strapped he gon' shoot ya Chirp the burners, copping new ones No talking to him, just hope you don't walk into him [Hook] [Verse 3: Kashflow] Hustled all winter, worked all spring Ball all summer, killing the game I say these niggas is rich but they don't know how to dress though I put the MF in Mannie Fresh though She say it was [?] I dripped on her Me and Chuck in a dopeboy whip on ya Young fellas built an empire right in the trap Let's put the real trill me on the map Now I'm riding 'round Cali smoking kush with the strap A true hustler never smoking, dropping off packs You ever be like what part of the game is that? Forty Niner when I be getting at a nigga cap Ooh [Hook]
Tłumaczenie
Brak

Najnowsze teksty piosenek

Sprawdź teksty piosenek i albumy dodane w ciągu ostatnich 7 dni