A+

A+ - A Z songtekst

Je score:

Yeah yeah
 Word up (Yeah son)
 Yeah yo how this goin down nine-six
 How we livin son (exoticness)
 Nine-six exoticness (representin)
 Know what I mean? (A )
 A (yo how we livin?)
 This is New York City
 Ninety-seven Sosa
 A to Z up in the spot representin
 Takin it back from here its sposed to be
 Takin ya back son take it back
 Check it
 [Chorus]
 Six digit trickin coke and henny mixin many listen
 Fuckin give me mine dont wanna see no penny missin
 Its old tradition how we click and fall in position
 The rap coalition, we gettin rich an
 [A ]
 Poetically Im deadly like a crucifiction
 Buddha addiction
 Dismissin competition when they roll wit friction
 My whole crew be schemin flippy
 Like ixing for that chicken
 Smith brothas and A on ya Mason-Dixon
 Who want the steel cap feel the real rap
 Patiently my whole crew waited and we rock premeditated
 Chucked underground like the rap genie
 And watch the shore by the rising tide now the whole world can see me
 When they get foul thats when my style gets wild
 I hang a man in front of a crowd without a trial
 KAPOW, yo thats all she wrote end the quote
 For frontin, a brotha got a dome and his legs broke
 [Chorus: 2X]
 [A ]
 Yeah son I want it all your crib, cars and beepers
 Wit hundred dollar sneakers my sounds blowin ya speakers
 Burgundy landcruisers chrome rims on blue rugers
 Lyrical hollow tip slug point trugers
 [AZ]
 Yo yo
 Yo drug connects
 Diamond cut bergets drippin wet
 My hole is there from Cu-bec got her flippin checks
 What, I push a black Lex with gold on my neck
 You rockin wit a vest tryin to catch a hole in ya chest
 Firm official, exotic girl but wanna be the ritual
 Leavin lights shine light theyve been psyched to slip through
 [A ]
 I will abolish
 MCs get straight up demolished
 Yo my mind is like a nine I load it up wit knowledge
 [Chorus: 2X]
 The realism must continue where I live is like a battlefield
 We all poor but on my block is like a half a mil
 Surrounded by the most criminal type of elements
 Blunts, stunts, gunshots, broken-down developments
 Its all illegal, young juveniles wit the desert eagles
 Street sweepers, heaters, soon-to-be retreaters
 Its routine, people seem to go through a cycle
 So confused, to choose between the bible or the rifle
 Watch em stifle
 Yo me an son gone escalate this
 And get these papers run some capers while they catch the vapors
 Yeah son, dont got no time for no chicken trickin
 Its the lyrical addiction
 Cuz me an AZ be politikin
 [Chorus: 4X
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Taal: Engels

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