The Beatnuts

The Beatnuts - Slam Pit songtekst

Je score:

(feat. Common, Cuban Link)



[Marlon:]  "Yo it's, yo B"

("Chill chill Marlon, chill")

[Marlon:] "Nah, yo, it's...I don't know this nigga B" ("Chill Marlon")

[Marlon:] "Why yo yo, put that down B, I don't know you son!

I DON'T KNOW YOU SON!  HOLD UP HOLD UP!"



[gunshots and screams]



"I Links with the Cuban"

[Cuban Link] "I'm hard to kill, for real nigga, guard your grill"



[Cuban Link]

Yo flipmode is how this nigga roll

Finger on the trigger low

Quick to lick a shot for that bigger pot of gold

Lock and load, my heavy metal rock and rolls

If you gotta go, you gotta go

That's part of the show

My heart is cold like Antarctica, nailin niggas like carpenters

Stalkin the hardest squadrons

Spark them from New York to Arkansas

Watchin the projects how I got my logic

Economics is pickin pockets then we split the profit

The only shit I pop is when my glock spit

Watch for the cops since we spark the chocolate

Cuz the blocks are hotter than the fuckin tropics

In topless bars, college girls with no bras

My whole squad got blowjobs smokin Godfather cigars

Live large like Scarface

Parlay in a far place

No car chasin, she's watchin all the stars in space

Safe in sound in my playground with my trey-pound

Got eighty rounds just in case clowns wanna play around

I lay it down for them non-believers

Them non-achievein niggas that wanna be leaders but can never beat us

Ya'll better greet us if you ever see us

TS, Beatnuts, knuckle up but grab your mothafuckin heaters, word up



[Nas] "Slammin MC's on cement"

"The Beats and Nuts"

[Psycho Les] "Got you froze like gunpoint"

[JuJu] "It's the hard little pistol packin"



[JuJu]

It's the control freak, leave you wit a hole in your cheek

Worst attitude in rap, Ju stay on the streets

I gotta eat, the only thing I'm playin is keeps

You beats cost a lot of money but they sound real cheap

You sound weak, anemic like you get no sleep

Fuckin with me, you outta your mind, get outta your jeep!

Know I'm gonna beat you till the police come

And tell niggas who the fuck I got that Rollie from (The Beats)



[Psycho Les]

Jump in the Pit

Beatnuts fuckin up shit

Ju hold my gun and the clip

As I smoke one and spit

Ammo over the piano

For a man's show, you don't understand bro!

You do, don't make me laugh at your ass

Cuz you don't even know the HALF of the HALF!

When I crash on the scene

You know it's me and a bunch of crazy cats outta Queens

So hide your shine, hold your bitch and stop smiling

Beatnuts will never stop wildin

Pit Fighting and rockwilding!



"Common Sense gonna tell ya!"



[Common]

Picture a king

Wit heater, holy book,  and big rings

Real niggas doin big things

Interpreting dreams off of Jim Beam

Ain't shit Sweet but Sixteens

My gods got the block sewn to the inseem

I'm on the other side tryin to get green

So I fast at grass and ass at least a day

War with self I battle the Middle Eastern way

Bring heat like the months that's east of May

Casted in the role and saw a new school nigga that knows the old 

G memory I hold the scroll, my flow is a Road

Less Travelled, you rock but been through less gravel

My mystique suggest battle, and what have you

Rip a nigga from New York to west coast, Chicago

Don't give a fuck where he from

He'll get beat like a drum

Till this rap goes numb, seekin the hot producer for circu-lation

I strangled his string music and suffocate his drum

Wanted to be a star until I seen I was the sun

Got my weight up like Pun

Improvise to get ass, emphasize to get past

Fuck a mic check, I bring my flow in cash



"Slammin MC's on cement"
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Taal: Engels

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