M.O.P.

M.O.P. - Face Off songtekst

Je score:

Yo a lot of people depend on me (strongly)
 I no longer wanna press them situations wrongly
 They say that a man's life, gon' be what it's gon' be
 So I switched the game around, and now it's on me
 (You control your destiny) You niggaz keep testin me
 like you want me to show you how messy a mess can be
 (You're still a bang-banger) One of Saratoga's finest
 ?? ?? attention now (??) makin your highness..

 Yo Bill, what'd you stop for man, what'd you stop for?
 Teach 'em, tell 'em how you feel!

 As I struggle to get my hands, on a dollar today
 I think back about cats, that have passed away
 That's why I feel more cursed than blessed
 And I wonder what in this world, more worse than stress
 I'm a mess with stress, though I present it with finesse
 Sometimes I feel as if my heart is comin out my chest
 I smoke too many ciggarettes; and the Remi won't
 wash away the pain or get, strain off my brain
 See it's the way, we, roll down here, stroll down here
 A shootout, is like a common cold out here
 That's why I sit back and I laugh at y'all
 When it's crunchtime on the frontline, I will blast at y'all
 I'm from Saratoga Avenue, I HAD to brawl
 It's where I realized it's a cold world, after all
 You hear me talkin to ya? I'm on some grown Danze shit
 (You'll be comin of age) My life is on a different page;
 able to tame my rage
 A little bit different from the first time I picked up a gauge
 A little bit different from the first time I stepped on a stage
 Take a look at me now; a born winner
 In a race against time, like Bruce Jenner
 A natural born sinner, can't nobody tame me, or change me
 (For no reason at all he's angry, he'll) kill again!

 {*beat changes*}

 [Lil' Fame]
 You are now tuned in to the Works of Mart
 Take two steps back it's gon' hurt you pah!
 Who the fuck talkin that they gon' hurt Jamal?
 This ain't no diamond-studded rapper, it's the lover-stutter-slapper
 Unpretty type rapper, gritty type rapper
 Fo'-five semi-automatic pipe clapper
 With them O.G.'s in it, please don't get your shit twisted
 like bamboo with no trees in it
 Fall back, motherfucker you can't beat me
 It's the Womack, the extension of Danzini
 We came into the game with some change for (??) fear
 Two Phillies, a dime bag, and a forty ounce of beer
 Now look at him, they hittin the scene slow
 Who grindin, who thieves, but I'm lookin mean yo
 with a gangster lean though, big dog in it
 With my chrome ten inch hubcaps, but I keep 'em clean doe
 I know the pros and cons so I married the game
 Now it's mommy's little boy left to carry the name
 I'm in the streets like a dopefiend with a shoppin cart filled
 Double (??), who the fuck gon' stop Fame?
 Y'all niggaz keep waitin til they pop Fame
 And hold your breath while you wait bitch, I got game
 Niggaz ain't feelin the Fame bitch? Stop dreamin
 I'm the shit that felt good comin out of my pop's semen
 Hit the streets and thug with me
 No matter how disgruntled you sound nigga, you can't fuck with me
 Too many dick riders that's quick to go blaow
 But look bitch, I'ma let you know now
 You fuckin with thugs, what the fuck you think this was?
 I'm what you want me to be, stop fuckin with me
 Cause I'm a nigga of the earth (earth) nigga of the sea (sea)
 Nigga of the sky and fire, fling fire
 Why don't I-ah, dump back at your men
 It's M.O.P. and we at it again, ah-heh!
 I ain't clappin over your head
 I'ma make sure I pop somethin through ya
 Givin motherfuckers ulcers with lead
 Have your parents and the pastor huddled over your bed
 May the Lord be with you, game over, you're dead
 Motherfucker
Vind dit lied op:
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Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: Loud Records, LLC

Details:

Uitgegeven in: 2000

Taal: Engels

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