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Testi Dr. Dre F/ Nowl - Nationowl
Testi-musica-canzoni.it > Testi lettera D > Dr. Dre F/ Nowl > Miscellaneous - Nationowl(All right, is everybody ready *YEAH!*)
 (Alright now, here we go)
 
 Nationowl divides this bomb to blow
 Adios serials worldwide
 Once inside ya ride, usin the mic like a screwdriver
 to break down the speed
 While labels were sound asleep, Nowl peeped and creeped
 and stole the ground beneath they feet
 Far from the bail, still makin my sales
 Movin tapes like weight, we's hip-hop cartel
 takin over, no doubt
 Like thongs, they ass out but win amounts with the Doctor
 Dre, all day cash his cheques
 Like Play, I hittin you in the head like strays (BUU-YU-KOW!)
 Nationowl's defence covers my ass
 and team o' outcast niggas who're quick to blast
 Our beat's on hit, keep the peace on
 MC's couldn't find my path (Where you at niggas?)
 
 Chorus: 
 
 Pledge a legiance to my team
 Let's scheme, nigga, we gots ta get CREAM
 Cos worldwide shit's outta control
 Why you can't get down with Nationowl
 Young and old, my niggas who's on parole
 Why you can't get down with Nationowl
 Bitches who own, my niggas whose heart is cold
 Why you can't get down with Nationowl
 
 Nationowl's anthem, got'cha soul on lock
 still fully loaded, cocked the handgun
 Composed like the Phantom
 while the face of earth gets ugly, we ever lovely
 Bitches who never duck me, "Nowl loved me"
 In thinkin I must spend dough til I'm dizzy
 Assholes around like a frisby
 And for satisfaction chew an MC like Wrigley
 History's about to be made, I met'cha in a way
 tryin ya hardest to delay
 My flight batterin, keep the world ringin like *?Sadaran?*
 Lyrics bone shatterin
 Pretenders wantin to be Cinder-rella
 What? That shoe you tryin ta wears, not fittin
 Now we're strippin niggas like a Chippendale
 I'm rippin hell, burnin the devil and inhale
 
 Chorus
 
 In the last days, which side will you be on?
 Nationowl's on the side that I beat on
 I demand put me on
 From the door I use MC's to wipe my feet on
 My shit be bumpin like in-grown hair
 For twenty-six years trained in ghetto warfare
 Nigga, I see more green than St. Patrick
 Pro actors, game of life with no practice
 Controllin craps like I had a remote
 It's a rule, now go enter ya tomb
 No joke, much over I scold
 It's some game for all who's tryin ta split ya coats
 Best believe that these are our last years
 Prepare or get done from the rear
 As we move there, where? The final frontier
 United we stand, divided we don't have a prayer
 
 Chorus
 
 Are you wit me East Coast?
 Are you wit me West Coast?
 Are you wit me?
 Are you wit me?
 Are you wit me West Coast?
 Are you wit me East Coast?
 Are you wit me?
 Are you wit me?
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