Boo-yaa T.r.i.b.e.
Boo-yaa T.r.i.b.e. - Real 911 songtekst
Je score:
[Intro - Eminem] WAAAAHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOO!!! {*laughs*} Guess who's back?!?! Mommy! We're home!! Say hello to my little friends DJ Muggs, Soul Assassins, Cypress Hill Everybody! Put your hands where my eyes can see!!! [Verse - Eminem] Everywhere we go people know that we roll deep as fuck Fourty fifty Samoans, they knowing when D-Bo was 50, Tweezy, Obie there won't be no hoe in us They pop shit like they gon do shit but no one does From New York down to Texas, back up to Los Angeles We've changed the way we move so man up if you can't adjust You may end up getting rushed by too many to handle us It's funny, I guess money does have its advantages And it isn't that we just think that we can't be touched It's not like we're just feeling ourselves that much It's just, that if someone ever does put us in the clutch We just know that y'all ain't gon be the one who's gon do it Cause first of all you're pussy and everybody can see that You fuck around, get caught in a spot that you shouldn't be at That you got no business being in, we ain't even gon be in it No one's gunna hear nothing, no one's gunna see this shit And they'll be in and up out of it, them boys is bout it, bout it The noise from (?) be drowned out by the crowd And you'll be laying on the ground getting trampled by people dancing Till the club closes, and clears out And that's when they see you flatened Nobody saw it happen, all cause your jaws are flapping And you couldn't stop yapping and took it past rapping It ain't about the music no more, it's bout trying to show off And it feels like any minute the bomb is bout to go off [Chorus - Eminem] Shit's about to change, cause we ain't playing no games We ain't budging neither are they, we ain't saying no names Shit just ain't the same, when the K's get to scream Hip-hop is in a state of 911 It ain't about hip-hop, cause those days are gone It ain't about trying rip shots, to get props no more It's about trying not to get popped, and get dropped to the floor Cause hip-hop is in a state of 911 [Verse - B-Real] Step off my holster cause shit it's getting serious All theses drugs you be fucking with make you delirious Thinking you coming with heat, yo son, I'm curious How long are you gunna hate us and judge us and jury us? Some people can never fade us, that make us so furious Mistake us for fakers, homie we greater and glorious We living for real and others just making the stories up Allusions are broken, so live it up, you corny fucks If you take a fucking minute to think about what you've done When you stood against a gangsta who live and die by the gun Got a hot one, spraying you bitches til there is none I'm like a rolling stone homie, I got you under my thumb Silly little bitches can end up right up in ditches We cut you and give you stitches, for envy and all my riches Your game's just like a midget, you're clocking a small digit Dealing with the Giant Goliath, people that's how we live it, c'mon [Chorus] [Verse - Ganxsta Ridd] Uh, gangsta Ganxsta who come to pay you a visit On this shit you call hip-hop, this function is where did it When I - put it in motion, my focus is getting branded My appetite for destruction is blasted because I said it Got you - stumbling for cover, this music dying in numbers But you wouldn't pause and wonder, admitting it's all glamour When you - enter the business you thinking you running shit You witness that funny shit, your bitches they ain't shit! We gangstas we blast first, ask questions later All these - imitators parading like they some playas Trying to - save hip-hop the task is something greater Cause we old fashioned coded with loyalty motivaters Get caught, I'm not telling, or more like killing not caring I'm riding a - gangsta feeling, no fearing when gangstas dying I'm in a - full circle with homies that's supposed to bleed On an 8 Mile mission with Cypress and O.G.'s [Chorus]