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Testi Pastor Troy - No More Play in GA
Testi-musica-canzoni.it > Testi lettera P > Pastor Troy > We Ready I Declare War - No More Play in GAphone ringing)
Troy:yea yea yea can I speak to (Master) P ?
Guy on phone:P ain'y here
Troy:Hey yo tell him that Pastor Troy and them Down South Georgia Boys said
since everybody thank they soldiers then what's up lets go to war.
Chorus:My nigger fuck what you say ain't no more play in G.A.
We Ready (in the background)
What's up big mouth big talk big game
Teacher pet,taking aim,pump the tech,I'm takin aim,
Plenty range,plenty shot,plenty change,plenty glock,
Pack the heat and Imma keep em' hot
and Imma take my stress right off the top,
Cuz I'm not,nothing like,anyone whats on the mic,
Wish you might,sho' ya right,have ya'll thinking I'm Barry White,
In the night,pack em' tight,call a fight T.K.O.,
We got mo',you ain't know,numero uno,
Keep a O we burnin slow,
We optimo yall swisher sweets,and don't compete I'm too unique,
Sit back be quiet when the Pastor preach,
I made the beat,you beat your meat,yeah punk you touch yourself,
It be Pastor Troy D.S.G.B represent until my death,
And anyone else that want us you can trust it aint no fear,
You can talk that in my ear
but it aint shit till you come down here,
Anyone else that want us you can trust it aint no fear,
You can talk that in my ear but it aint shit till you come down here.
(Chorus)
Fake gold,fake soul,sold this,sold that,
Story grew old,old vouges,old lac,
But Im back verse two,and you,know me,
Ain't no,owe me,you die slowly,
Holy Bible,assault rifle,
Thall shall not kill unless they make you feel like they superior,
Naw brah' who you with D.S.G.B my clique,
All the money that we can get,in the mix gone and pick,
I'm like Vick Vapo Rub,pinch a nick up out your dubb,
Who the fuck you think I was,
Enough of the talkin,talkin what's up,
Is we actin up,you best be backin up,
Rember,re-up,red mouth, straighten me,
All these niggers be hatin me,because we keep all the D,
O.P. add a E,
O.P.P. we ain't down,none of my folks don't fuck around,
Quick to spit every round,come on clown,
You so bad,you so raw,you so mean,in the car looking mean,
All you see is the green,
I'm the king of the thrown,still shown in every song,
Pump to it, not little too long,
Pastor Troy and now it's on.
(Chorus)
I make the ghetto my lobby,make they habit my hobby,
Bought the look of Arm & Hammer cook it up sell the copy,
Got me watchin for coppers,
All I want is to prosper,
Niggers climing with me,
Don't know they claimin they "G",
So bump this beat cuz it's real,just change your air change the station,
Watch the story bout hating, then another bout bassing,
I'm stayin rich to get it,but now I'm sick of this shit,
With these last couple of dollars we gone flip it legit,
I bought this beat machine,bout big as a calculator,
Who would have ever dreamed we hit the studio later,
Its like I owe them bassers,
For making me take this serious,
Wasn't for the struggle cuz,you would not be hearing this,
In the mist I'm frisked bout three times a day,
What I'm doing down here ?
Nigger this where I stay,
I just pray that I relay the message to some,
And let them know goddanm ain't no more play where I'm from.
(Chorus
- Krs-one
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