Team Napalm

Team Napalm - Gwop songtekst

Je score:

[Intro: NLZ]
Yo, Team Napalm, let's get that money, baby
Fam; Rockwell, Dom Pachino, NLZ
What up, 4th D, Chapizzy, Crunch Lo
Just Da Barber, yo, check it
[NLZ]
My attitude is as cold as brick
My Team equipped with ratchets that'll loosen your grip 
real quick
It's more than just the music when the tools spit
These hammers here, make you hop out that cool whip
Yo, you fronting on some cool shit, nigga I'm serious
If the dollars don't make sense, kid, I ain't hearing 
it
And make the livest niggas, quit your blunts on holy 
spirit shit
When the killas start screaming through tubes, they all 
listening
Long range, my heat seak for spare change
Come through hooded up, cruising fakes, looking real 
strange
Oh, my neck's full of veins, nigga, I need that GWOP
Choose ya poison, you wanna get jigged, sliced and 
shot?
With one eye vision, the other I squint
I make ya body roll over like phone minutes from Sprint
When the ends don't meet, blow stems and get bent
I ain't got nothing to lose when it's time to pay the 
rent, yo
[Chorus 2X: Dom Pachino]
All we wanna do is get the GWOP/All we wanna know is 
where the GWOP
Multimedia hardcore music we got
Rich, you ain't gotta go uptown to cop
But all I wanna know is where that muthafuckin' GWOP 
(at)
[Dom Pachino]
Man, call the choppers, get my trees from Shocker
Kick my shit like soccer, slam ya face on the locker
Send a kite out to Killa, my gorillas is locked up
But they be coming home soon, and we gon' tear the 
block up
Gee golly wolly, Dom P, polly with mobsters
I get a piece of the action, you get deceased in a 
fraction
Man, these cats are softer than satin, you should see 
my loft in Manhattan
That I copped with the GWOP, cuz I'm more than just 
rapping
Throw me in the mic booth, throw me in the cage
I get the black in, no matter where they put me at, I 
always rep Staten
Puerto Rico, I'm proud to be Latin
And I'm not gon' stop, til my shit go platinum
Dom P, Napalm shit, muthafucka, where you at, son?
[Chorus 2X]
[Crunch Lo]
I need digits, yo, about seven figures
Armed up, in prenubs, for them gold diggers
Hard hat on, to protect me from debris
Come on, duke, now, you know I need the cheese
Good GWOP, like I was running the dope spot
My dogs is ready, with the hollows and the glock
Non-stop, I persue it, they ain't nothing to it
Swoosh for my symbol, kid, I 'just do it'
Shine bright, my dude, like a big piece of jewel
Stocks and bond, send my kids to a Ivy league school
Ya fools, need to tighten up or get lit
I spray crimes, so them rhymes, is my time
I grind, dig deep and I find, my serenity
Dusting off the enemy, niggas, be befriending me
I got the remedy, like antibiotics
Crazy and erotic, hot shit, I got it
[Chorus 2X]
[Outro: Dom Pachino]
Nahmean, it's what it is, cousin
Napalm, the Team, bone crushing ya niggas, man
Smashing ya'll whole shit in, man
Push ya whole shit, back
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

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Taal: Engels

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