Capone-N-Noreaga

Capone-N-Noreaga - Bloody Money songtekst

Je score:

New York get the Bloody Money  dirty cash
 live niggas who smoke weed  car thief style
 you monkey walk  a hunchback  keep quiet
 talkin 'bout mi casa  scared to death when I pop up
 I'm fouler than gats that dont bust when they supposed to
 been around you  play close  but wasn't close to you
 the setup was weak  you coming
 I saw you cuttin corners  snake type shit
 tie you up  seal your lip  wrist bleeding
 cowboy rope, choke your throat
 put the bogey out in your face
 now your face laced like ash tray space
 stay fuck outta my way
 get a scar on your face, shoot you up above waist
 if I aint got beef right here or right there
 Ice Grill fear, shoulda set it off right it off right there
 CNN war report, spread across New York
 guard him indian style kness bent, militant
 yo the world know Noriega from Iraq
 beef would be serious, keep it real as that
 get stabbed in your back, my man Alley Cat
 little cousin from Jamaica, brown-skin thug
 thuglife, yo we stuck in the game like it's a drug
 my pops was a thug nigga, was on the streets too
 Uncle Wise been banned since '82
 back on the streets, A hundred seven got brew
 I see you, come see you, writing scrolls
 to the rest of the fam, locked in holes
 now ay-ay, money come first, snatch purse
 go to church, yo that's not me, money I'm cursed
 he bliss glamourous, diabolic, devilish, this game real, realer than
 you
 think
 just think, spots get rushed, knots get touched, police busts
 yo what happened? Police kicked door, yo he was rappin'
 your wife, wha-what!, dressed indecent
 a hundred crackers, yo it's the one-ten precinct
 Chorus
 yo time zone, cabron, madicon
 bitches callin me up tryin to set me up
 like Amina and Gina, kid they from Medina
 Emmanuel, use fish gill to sell
 General click deep with cartel
 when niggas get locked, who you think they call for bail
 shorty legs mad smooth, son I left slow
 pussy plus dick could only equal a fuck
 fatty bangin', she analyze, my chain hangin'
 we waitin, conversatin', evil as Satan
 illegal life, watch police on bikes
 son I feel ashamed, they monkey wrenched the whole gang
 a stress day, police watch the twelve "K"
 while I smoked shorty sipped chardonnay
 ale', laid back, cognac
 and I dont even drink like that, I sell crack
 yo my license, playin type mean, sell to fiends
 bust guns, parallel
 pistal (pistol), bust well
 kid whatever, desert storm like bad weather
 click together, keep gats under the leather
 you lightweight, what? I'm heavyweight hold weight
 yo these jail niggas comin' home taking a shit
 yo illegal business, them niggas got bagged quick
 got smoked
 god body cat, he sniff coke
 yo he's old time, thinkin 'bout drinkin' his wine
 regulatin' 9-9, get my crew out, survive shootout
 tactics, keep gats under the mattress
 player hater, my team a bunch of regulator
 set you up, you wont make it to the elevator
 you never been to jail, I'm jail seen
 niggas seen, me in jail since thirteen
 shooting up scenes
 real niggas take cream
 Chorus 2x
 (people giving shout outs
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: Victor Santiago (2)

Componist: ?

Publisher: Warner Strategic Marketing

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1996

Taal: Engels

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