Heltah Skeltah

Heltah Skeltah - Clans Posses Crews And Kliks songtekst

Je score:
[batty bwoy] Asshole  asshole  asshole!
 [Rock] There's like six bitch ass niggaz on the corner Son
 (Aiyyo word?) These niggaz is rappin  kickin raps n shit
 Can't tell these niggaz they ain't hype
 They punk smoove bullshit  just meet me downstairs Son
 I'ma set it on these niggaz Son
 [Ruck] Yo I'ma be right there man  I'm gettin dressed now
 [Rock] These niggaz have no idea Son, check it check it

 Verse One: Rock, Ruck

 And one time for your mind, one time for the snitch droppin dime
 Me don't wanna hear you whine when my nine's to your spine
 Glock diss, Rocky, Mountain, energy's from my
 fountain of youth runnin through my brain pounded
 So don't be found in my clutches
 If you don't who Sparsky is, then you don't know who Dutch is
 Don't get snuffed kid, we cause ruckus
 And rock mad domes while we at it who's the first up
 to see blackness like the universe

 Fuck that, niggaz better start runnin for shelter
 Live and direct with a nine tenth that's that nigga from Heltah Skeltah
 Word em up I murder ducks who never heard of Ruck plus
 My mind ills on rhyme skills with the nine that I buck (blahhh)
 Girls demand me, mad bitches I slam the
 microphone you hand me till the judge remand me (what)
 Can we, get along like Rodney, and Rock please
 Put these niggaz in they proper place cause you cocky

 I, be the drama bringer wringer of a niggaz neck
 Wrecker of a set I buck shots with a steel tec
 Wussy, where's all them suckers talkin tracks bout they RnRin
 (They heard us comin and turned to track stars, check it)
 I be, never sloppy, I be ROTC
 I rock heads from Bedrock to Yugoslav-ia
 Robbin you and your crew blind yeah we do crimes
 Find that Absolut's fine, or in to behind
 Now you whine, but yo stop the blood clot cryin
 Like Screwface, I in the mood to bash your eyes in
 Devils does know who I am, madman from Heltah Skeltah
 Mr. Flipster, ROCK, Grandson of Sam

 As the World Turns in my search for tomorrow
 I seek the God in life, for some insight
 Freaky like a golden shower when my golden bowels
 Hit instrumentals get influential like Colin Powell, now
 Fuck the world, stick my dick in the dirt
 Pull tunes on spooks who claim I ain't cool like Levert
 Expert when I network my lyrics like a rebel
 Vexed cause the devil never take me to that next level
 It's never humble in asphault jungles
 When you slang rocks and Ricans in back deal with bundles
 Some may wonder, the evil these two men do, torment you
 Lyrical landlord, your fuckin rent due

 Chorus:

 Clans, posses, crews and kliks
 All y'all bitch niggaz can suck my dick
 Kliks, posses, crews and clans
 Can't none of y'all niggaz fuck with me and my man

 Verse Two: Rock, Ruck

 Aiyyo, one's for the, shots I pop
 Two's for the anti-real snakes I fought and dropped
 Three's for the irrational Ruck, bitch!
 I be Rock and the four's for hip-hop cause with this shit we rip shop
 Ask me how foul I am, mannn you know damn well
 it was me that hit your bitch up in my man's van
 Too plexed your grand-pops then like corn I pop shit
 You can't flush, fuckin with us you're smacked with hock spit
 Who dare square with Rock me I break you
 Tree times worse dan a bumba claat earthquake do
 Heltah Skeltah is hectic hit the deck then step
 if you wanna hear your neck click
 See this center, but really play no basketball
 I do my shootin with a motherfuckin mac you fall
 To the floor, OGC hit up everything that come through the door
 Recognize Heltah Skeltah mean war

 So what's the reason for the treason, punk you wanna die
 My mind crucify those who try to defy
 God cipher devine drop bombs on the blind
 In the mood to get rude with the lyrics instead of my nine (hah)
 Now I (what) want a nigga to come with hand skills
 Man chill, might end up in a landfill
 Stand still, nigga you know the position
 Glocks clickin from niggaz who ain't got pots to piss in
 Plus I get hyped when my mic strikes windpipes
 Me and Rock is this tight (there'll never be no fist fights)
 You're lip punks when my fifth smokes the rich folks
 who sniff coke, now your bitch broke ain't no misquote
 I just spoke, wicked ways with words of wisdom
 Like Cyclops I spot fly shots with ill vision
 Similar to none Son so it fuckin seem
 Savages get sewn the fuck up with shots to they spleen

 Chorus: repeat 4X
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Taal: Engels

Deel je mening

Dit formulier wordt beschermd door reCAPTCHA en de Google Privacy Policy en Servicevoorwaarden zijn daarbij van toepassing.

0 Reacties gevonden