Scarface
Scarface - Git Out My Face songtekst
Je score:
[Chorus] Fake-ass-ni-ggaz (NEED TO GET OUT MY) faaaace Fake-ass-ni-ggaz (WON'TCHA STAY OUT MY) faaaace (ALL YOU FRAUDULENT-ASS NIGGAZ NEED TO GET OUT MY) faaaace (ALL YOU BEGGIN-ASS BITCHES NEED TO GET OUT MY) faaaace [Scarface] News gossip laws gossip boppers boppin hoes beg Foresake me cause they bitches always be off in my bed Always fuckin with they feelings, bitch I'll fuck you with my head I don't love you and you don't love me so motherfuck what Donna said I got paper never spend it I ain't never seen a night that I felt a need to pay a bitch unless she was a dyke Lickin pussy left and right, bringin bitches by my place Jack me off and suck my dick and let me skeet off in her (faaaace~!) Blackberry start to buzzin, guess her husband askin questions Wonderin where she at cause she just called her cousin, mad and fussin I'm laughin cause I'm fuckin, slappin ass and titty suckin Please your nipples, puttin that thump in her ass and she ain't strugglin [Chorus] [Scarface] You ain't gangsta, youse a busta, quick to say that you a hustler But realistically, you a bitch to me, sweet as pie but down to Custer Wanna cry when niggaz touch ya, wanna hide cause niggaz bust ya Got the copies of them statements you was makin motherfucker All you fake-ass niggaz get the fuck out my (faaaace~!) 'Fore I make it rain and shower you with copper from the A K, 47 that's gon' be my tool Make me clack it, I start actin like a motherfuckin fool (yeah) Fool, you know me, I've been down since '85 Sellin dime for dime, doublin up my paper every time I live the life of crime, ghetto life from day to day Made me throw up both my hands, now get the fuck up out my (faaaace~!) [Chorus] [Scarface] Thought I mighta hung it up for good, got tired of ridin beats for free, said fuck it, I'm gon' go on and coach a team Play golf and smoke my weed, poke her every other day Do some groups and keep these haters out my motherfuckin (faaaace~!) But this shit ain't go the way I planned, I'm caught off in the cross And if I leave they won't respect the South cause niggaz soft Talkin 'bout what's in they mouth, talkin 'bout they cars and house And that ain't what we all about, we out here workin in a drought 'Bout that paper, 'bout that cabbage, out here hustlin 'til you grab it Pimp a pimp, you silly rabbit, youse a bun without a tablet So yo' intellect connect is comin short it out of space Catchin bricks and weed and ace so get the fuck up out my face