Mobb Deep

Mobb Deep - Hell On Earth Front Lines songtekst

Je score:

Yo  the saga begins  beget war
 I draw first blood be the first to set it off
 My cause  tap all jaws lay down laws
 We takin what's yours we do jerks rush the doors
 Here come the deez tryin to make breeze and guns toss
 In full force  my team'll go at your main source
 We're not tourists  hit bosses and take hostage
 Your whole setup  from the ground up we lock shit
 Blood flood your eye, fuck up your optics
 Switch to killer instincts for niggaz pop shit
 Yo nigga Noyd what's the topic? Nine pound we rocked in
 Ninety-six strike back with more hot shit
 Illuminate my team'll glow like, radiation
 With no time for patient, or complication
 Let's get it done right, my click airtight
 Trapped in a never ending gunfight so niggaz lose stripes
 or lose life, jail niggaz sendin kites to the street
 Over some beef that wasn't fully cooked, finish em off
 Well done meat, that said twenty-two slug to your head
 Travel all the way down to your leg

 Chorus: together

 Aiyyo it's hell on earth, whose next or gonna be first
 The projects is front lines, and the enemy is one time
 I ain't gotta tell you
 It's right in front of your eyes
 (repeat 2X)

 [Havoc]
 We wreck the QBC, nigga rep yours it's all love
 Milli stacked down, heavenly guarded by hollow tip slug
 Then crack down, on wannabe thugs adapt to gat sound
 And bow down, slow the fuck up, see how my foul now
 Articulate, hittin body parts to start shiftin shit
 Never hesitant, it's the crack game unlimited
 Summon rasta we can do this, forever infinite
 Then reminesce, twenty years later how we was gettin it
 Either with me go against the grain you better hit me
 Leggin me or robbin me niggaz better body me
 Cause it's a small world and niggaz, talkin like bitches
 Bitches singin like snitches, pointin you out in pictures
 Cause she rep the QBC faithfully, playa hatin me
 All that bullshit, is just makin me
 More the better, then concentrate on gettin chedda
 If shorty set you up you better dead her, I told you
 Shape and mold you, Sun you, then I hold you
 Like a pimp mind control you double edge blow you
 It'll be I, like I'm supposed to, the click is coastal
 International to local, Bacardi mix physically fix
 Hit you with shit, that'll leave a loose nigga stiff
 Probably thick, Son I solved em
 Pulled him in my world then evolved him to chaos
 Walk the beat like, around the way cops the average pitstop
 QBCity GodFather Part III, Gotti Gambino
 And Ty Nitty, Scarface rest in peace

 Chorus

 [Prodigy]
 Yo, the heavy metal king hold big shit, with spare clips
 You seein clips when the mac spit your top got split
 Layin dead with open eyes close his eyelids
 Turn off his lights switch to darkness, cause deep in the abyss
 is street life, blood on my kicks, shit on my knife
 Youse the wild child, kid cold turnin men into mice
 I was born to take power leave my mark on this planet
 The Phantom of Crime Rap, niggaz is left stranded
 Shut down your operation, closed for business
 Leave a foul taste in your mouth, like Guinness
 POW niggaz is found MIA
 We move like the special forces, green beret
 Heavily around my throat, I don't play
 Shit brand new, back in eighty-nine, the same way
 The God P walk with a limp see, but simply
 To simplify shit, no man can go against me
 Test me you must be bent G, don't tempt me
 I had this full clip for so long, it needs to empty
 The reason why it full for so long, cause I don't waste shit
 You probably hid, blood in your mouth, so you could taste it
 Quiet as kept, I lay back and watch the world spin
 I hear thugs, claimin that they gonna rob the Mobb
 When they see us, I tell you what black, here's the issue
 It's a package deal, you rob me, you take this message
 along with that, I ain't your average cat
 Fuck rap, I'm tryin to make CREAM and that's that
 Whatever it takes however it gots to go down
 Four mikes on stage a motherfuckin four pound
 Speakers leakin out sound and niggaz leakin on the ground
 I could truely care less the God will get his
 Regardless blow for blow let's find out who wear hardest
 This rap artist used to be a stickup artist
 Sometimes I test myself see if I still got it
 A live nigga stay on point never diss
 Regard shit or forget the essence, from which I emerged
 P is sick, so save that bullshit for the burbs
 Live up to my word, if I got beef, niggaz comin in herds
 We flush through your click get purged
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Copyrights:

Auteur: Albert Johnson

Componist: ?

Publisher: BMG Entertainment

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 1996

Taal: Engels

Komt voor op: Life of the Infamous (2006)

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