Mobb Deep - Stole Something - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

Stole Something

Mobb Deep

Blood Money

24

Rap

Tekst piosenki
[Produced by Havoc] [Havoc] Woooh, yeah, you can get with this, or you can get with that I don't got to tell you ho, you know I got that crack Three for the price of one, you know I have you comin' back You can have me a P.O. absolute, and it's a rap It's a fact, niggas know, fuck with us you gettin' clapped No I won't, say your name, cause it just put you on the map And I ain't, into lettin' niggas eat, no never that Shorty love the way I swing my game, I got a better bat Know I'm lethal with this rap shit, c'mon baby holla back Cut that juggler, you bleedin', no there ain't no stoppin' that I don't sleep, my eyes open, maybe a good powernap Spit a verse, then I eventually watch the cheddar stack I'm shittin' on niggas, shittin' like it's a ??? This a standin' ovation for homey, with a Tek clap F that, we takin' over baby, and that's that Catch me fuckin' with a bitch that can't stand rap [Hook: Havoc - 2X] I get at niggas like the stole from me, stole from me Their bank account lookin' like no money, no money There go police, shorty just hold for me, hold for me You want to work? Then pump this O for me, O for me [Prodigy] Gunpowder resi' on the sleeve of my Pelle I had to burn my leather, and toss +My Buddy+ Two hundred calls comin' in on my celly I had to cut the ringer, like "Fuck e'rybody" Drive the bulletproof all the way to Cali Lay low for a month or so - gettin' very High - where I'm goin' it gets my mind of the bones Back on the East Coast I bury Now I'm partyin' with Halle Berry This Hollywood shit'll catch you slippin' if you let it So niggas started grillin' me Like they was gon' take my things, so I assumed I had to set it Now it's blood splashed all on the ice in my jewellery They don't know who did it, cause I did it smoothly Take my ass back to Queens It's not like I look for trouble, it seems trouble always finds me, then [Hook: Havoc - 2X] [Lloyd Banks] Look, I got tons of old beef, and a brand new forty A hardcore groupie that would take a bullet for me A high-priced lawyer, just in case a nigga snap And can't take a joke, and pop a nigga over rap A horrible splatter in a matter of a second Dead over a record, shit he sound like he meant it My crew greater, yeah I'm talkin' to you hater I'm too major, two-tone blue gator New blazer, big gun, little razor So raise up, that ain't how your momma raised ya They wire-tappin' to hear somethin', they ear-hustlin' They won't bust him, why they came in and handcuffed him It's nothin', there's more 'mati's (automatics) at the spot One flat tire's gon' matter if they pop I pop up tomorrow with the wagon off the lot Stashbox, with the nine magnum with a wop [Hook: Havoc - 2X]
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