Luniz

Luniz - Broke Niggaz songtekst

Je score:

Chorus *(Yukmouth)*
 Broke niggas make the best crooks
 ya best look
 over your shoulder
 if you's a Highroller
 (broke mutha fuckas they make the best crooks)
 (broke mutha fuckas they make the best crooks)

 Verse 1 *(Knumskull)*

 Let's see how your vest look
 see if it fits ya
 picture four hideous hustlas
 quick to lick the silliest bustas
 I played the roll
 and ready to fold
 fix bitches in gold
 is a no-no
 livin low like De La Soul
 it's the "O"
 and the folks don't understand
 yes you can
 rush, shake the van
 and catch the Ice Cream Man
 they know me
 as the loyal citizen
 the boy who visited
 hot
 but on the spot
 I'm more chillier than Dennis-in
 finishin up my zip
 quick to make my grip
 you fuck around and get licked
 by the Luni click
 so that means bitches can't fade me
 fuck lobster
 I'm fuckin up yo monkey like the monsta on Aliens
 I got work
 someone told Knumskullin
 rollin
 four man deep
 in a stolen jeep
 wit heat
 keep the space between niggas and me ever
 What? Ballin outta control??!!
 Nah, petty theivin
 leavin no evidence or clues
 bitch you gets a date wit yo moms
 but you gets robbed by the Luniz fool
 if I was a bum
 I'd be straight to ride out
 fuck a piece of the pie
 I take the whole cake and sky out.

 *(chorus)* x1

 Verse 2 *(Knuckle Head)*

 Knuckle Head
 fool wit that master plan
 yeah
 got my glock caulked
 wit my yay in my hand
 understand
 I'm bigger than
 fourth indo man
 that rappin nigga also known as Mr. Window Man
 cuz when I roll
 nigga I rolls deep
 I be killin mutha fuckas in they sleep
 So punk P!
 The situation is I skipped it
 no set trip
 got the glock caulked
 keepin the tech on the hip
 like a pro
 deep up on the slope
 pick up the pace
 wit no time to waste
 put my gun to his fuckin face
 action-packed wit my shit
 it's the poetry
 kickin this psycho shit
 wit my click
 so you knows of me
 it's goin down
 I'm all about my mail
 wit my g's
 flipped from keys
 equals dope I'm a sale
 client-tell
 got me on top wit raps a crook
 but all you ever get
 is cum in yo little lungs
 so mutha fuckas took they last look
 (I'm broke, I'm sellin check books)
 cuz broke niggas make the best crooks.

 *(chorus)* x1

 *(Yukmouth talking)*

 Eh bail, look who that? Who the fuck is that?

 *(Dope man talking)*

 You're cocaine, give it to me. Now!

 *(Yukmouth)*

 What the fuck you? You must be snortin some shit or something.
 (What the fuck is that?!)

 *(yelling and screaming in back)*

 *(Knumskull talking)*

 Let's go turn off all the lights
 and make it seem like no ones home
 niggas comin from the Eastside
 bout to hoo ride and get stole.

 Verse 3 *(Eclipse)*

 See the whole thang was a plot
 cuz that bitch you got, she gave me the scoop
 12 o'clock
 Lexus coupe
 fill it up wit hella loot
 since your neighbors are all in my business
 you niggas don't need to know who the fuck this is
 juss throw on a ski mask
 and then I dash
 this my last visit
 and then I'm outtie
 350 prob'ley
 you niggas scared
 don't stop me
 I'm a pro
 when it comes to gangsta robberies
 the Paraphanalia
 the niggas
 the killas
 the Mobb
 the riggas
 the skrilla
 the dealas is doin they job
 Eclipse
 keeps clips
 (So don't you make 'em wanna blast nigga)
 I'd rather jack yo ass nigga
 than be a broke ass nigga.

 *(chorus)* x1

 Verse 4 *(Yukmouth)*

 Dope fiends in the kitchen
 smokin on a pipe
 hustlas on the corner
 shootin dice
 all of my folks in jail
 raisin hell
 got bitches on the whole stroll
 sellin fruit cocktales
 to clock mail
 fuck pimps
 ballas
 shot callas
 all of us gots to get our money on
 Oakland be's no joke
 it ain't no mutha fuckin funny bone
 sky out to your Honey Comb Hideout
 Money gone!
 pullin capers on fakes
 erase your papers like white out
 ain't no tryouts
 or basketball sports
 juss a crazy horse
 my four-fifth strapped when shootin craps on the porch
 back and fourth
 like Cameo
 I'm always Death Row
 even though I try
 I can't let go
 like Mariah
 Carry the four-fiver
 to blow shit up like Maguyver
 me be steadily Mobbin an robbin a cab driver
 either be a broke ass
 no cash
 havin your doe on
 I float on
 break more niggas than Ozone
 what
 really goes on
 hops
 the props I must
 clock
 hearin no glock
 will have that ass holdin like buckshots
 fuck cops
 I post on the block slangin crack-noid
 avoid being broke
 I'm tradin places wit Dan Akroyd

 *(chorus)* x1
Vind dit lied op:
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Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Taal: Engels

Komt voor op: Operation Stackola (1995)

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