Fat Joe - Dat Gangsta Shit - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

Dat Gangsta Shit

Fat Joe

Don Cartagena

8

Rap

Tekst piosenki
Yeah, uhh, dat gangsta shit Uhh, yeah, dat gangsta shit Uhh, dat gangsta shit What you love huh? Dat gangsta shit What you want huh? Dat gangsta shit Now what we live huh? Dat gangsta shit Yeah, uhh, uhh Recognize my presence, this rap game specialized with legends I drop shit niggas try to memorize in seconds You criticize me, still visualize the lessons And when I wish to put aside the questions Before they find out, who's the realest Who done spoke without one joke about the illest Shit that ever happened, in this rappin beyond rappin Joe the God it ain't so hard to start clappin But I lay low, create flows, for the pesos Now we got extra hoes, wantin to chase shows I take foes, and break em down to minerals We went from street corner thugs to white collar criminals Individuals, with no peace on the quest The iced out, piece on my chest, from the East to the West Never sleep in a sweat, keep the heat with the vest Ready for the 'casian blazin gettin deep with the best The police wanna test my strategy, got half of the world Mad at me, but very few challenge me Perhaps you will be the first to approach this, lyrical dope shit Cartagena will bring the chrome like explosives Now what you love huh? Dat gangsta shit What you want huh? Dat gangsta shit Now what we live huh? Dat gangsta shit Dat gangsta shit, dat gangsta shit Yeah, uhh, uhh Fuck the whole world, all I need is my dough and my girl And even she can get it, everybody go to hell I don't need y'all, disrespect the Don and I'mma see y'all Hit you with the tech and the armor, you see-saw That's my steez, if I don't kill you I'mma clap you these Ask your peeps if I ain't have the beast soundin Japanese Coughin blood, that's what you get for talkin thug Run up on your preacher with the sweeper feature coughin slugs Once a thug always a thug, hallways and drug dealers Fillers, killers, they wanna chill all day with us They love the Don, these words are more than just another song If I said I slit your neck, your jugular's gone Ain't nothin artificial, Joe the God, the Terror Squad official Got a lot of pistols with missiles, Pray Allah is with you The shit you say'll get you sprayed with the clapper Just remember Joe the God is not your ordinary rapper Now what we love huh? Dat gangsta shit What you want huh? Dat gangsta shit Now what we live huh? Dat gangsta shit Dat gangsta shit, dat gangsta shit Now what you love huh? Dat gangsta shit What you want huh? Kick dat gangsta shit What you live huh? Dat gangsta shit Dat gangsta shit, dat gangsta shit Yeah Goin out to all the real niggas All the niggas that support real hip-hop All my niggas on the corners DJ's, no matter where the fuck you from It's where's your gat, hahaha Primo whattup nigga? Yeah Don Cartagena Terror Squadian, rock the party and, what? Beotch!!
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