AZ

AZ - At Night songtekst

Je score:


I don't give a hell what you spit

Who you are, where you from...

This is...this is projects

I don't give a hell what you spit

Who you are, where you from

And who the hell you be gettin'

Urban wolves

Dream team baby

The sosa of the game has returned

Brooklyn

Black sopranos

Let's play



[Verse 1]

Nice and smooth, white knights, icey jewels

So cool, but the slightest shit ignite my fuels

Love it low, stay in mine, attach semi

Cuz its hard to enter rap just passin' by

XK8, it's all good, the next they hate

Was never the type of nigga that flexed his weight

See, frontin just ain't my forte, I'm all foreplay

Hoppin' out the porsche, drop products on graves

My slow grind story niggas cosign for me

Y'all slouch rappin' fake trash niggas' rhymes bore me

Adore me, respect niggas way before me

Since a shorty, in love wit big guns and orgies

Engaged to it, guzzlin' that beige fluid

Spazzin' like its the music that made me do it

Move through it if you that thorough, I'm certified

Through the grapevine, I know that niggas heard I'm live



[Chorus]

I don't give a hell what you spit

Who you are, where you from...

This is projects

I don't give a hell what you spit

Who you are, where you from

And who the hell you be gettin'



[Verse 2]

Look, look, I be postered up like I'm toasted up nice

Stop niggas from gettin' killed, broken up fights

Blunted at the park jams, opened up mics

Now its on us, in the ??? I focus on right

Its hardball, now niggas can't call foul

Y'all can't get wit me, I can't fall now

Immune to the murderous plots

Been about it way before niggas heard I was hot

Heavy jewels, the type to keep the herb in the sock

A fresh pair, and I fuck wit them Germans a lot

Let's play, pop bottles like its no tomorrow

Ricky Ricardo, the young black Leonardo

Part Spanish, my robe'll make the dark vanish

Too complicated for y'all 85's, don't understand it

Respect game, there's rules as a criminal

So recognize I'm a five star general

You touchin' who



[Chorus]



[Verse 3]

Yo, yo, at time its hard illin', it kinda scars the feelings

But what yall want from a game that's involved in millions

Cars, and chillin', sex wit' they broads, but villain

It could find a broke man, have him harm civilians

Its like a larson and razor blades but robbers spinnin'

Niggas runnin' from court tryna dodge they sentence

The odds is endless, moms can't calm the menace

Its like Saddam's in us, comin' fully armed for business

Chrome pubelies, smoke great, two tone seventies

Five miles on the same line, the zone is deadly

Hope heaven got a ghetto for us

In the hood, for the hustlers that bled before us

Weep slow, soak in, feel the Schweppervesence

Specialize foot notes for the adolescents

Locked in, there's beef in the game now

I know its deep but the streets know the name now

The war is on



[Chorus]
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Taal: Engels

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