Smif-n-Wessun - Spit Again - Tekst piosenki, lyrics - teksciki.pl

Spit Again

Smif-n-Wessun

38

Rap

Tekst piosenki
Spit again is on yo set, on deck Sound Bombing three with my dudes Mr. Choc, Big Cyphs (rob ya all day, yeah, what) [Verse 1] Lord some boy gon' get dead tonight Licking pussy oh boy didn't I man? Oh boy one, test ten if he come try Many Morroco suffer, many Morroco die Semi-autos to stutter bucka, bucka, bbucka Calling popo for cover, rhyming with Cocoa Brovaz Pure murder since the day of discover One-of-a-kind never find another Spit rhymes like no other Sick line grip chrome nines with rubber Get high in public, ride in trucks puffing Slide in clubs scutting, whore hunting, start buzzing 'Till sun grows something, google on something Ya'll lame like ruffin' sexy something it don't nothing [Hook] [Verse 2] (Fire Bun) man I deal what the fuck Rick Mack 11 on ya now ya traffic touch with Ya gun know check the steal on ya guns With the world wide champion killer sound Yeah yeah boy, who you wanna rump with? So you can call the police on some clap shit You ain't gangster I live by the street code Been told never let beef grow old, get rid of that Like prince crime pistols muzzle' em up Half of a man on the dash, trucks guzzle it up Like I'm highway hustling hazing it up Star and Buck ain't the only niggas heatin' it up [Hook] [Bridge 1] It's like murder (scared boy gangster run away) It's like murder (informer boy informer) [Bridge 2] x3 No, no, no don't take from now and then Can't test the sound, so boy we run you outta town [Verse 3] Lord some boy gon' get dead tonight Grimy of the never since I been out the light In the eyes of the media, fuck'em yo I'm still out in public taking the dough Got a fiend for the right guard with hands like apes For the strips from the plate gorilla smack ya face Rhyme a day no rhyme but it's nine to spray Keep a safe full of bail money just in case [Verse 4] The routs we take have us on the run from Jake The rules we break keep us on the move for cake Niggas can't wait to hate, DJ's dub my plate These days the PJ's ain't safe Weed smoke clouds my face, whores be crowd my space Twin fofo's 'round my waist, Keep a extra round to waste Some x some haze, Smith and Wesson ga ga ga threat ya stage [Hook]
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