Testi musica canzoni

Yo, hard beats like this keep my mentality rawI G off C 4 lyrics to blow off them Lex doorMy tex-ture be the kind that exploreMC's then blow em out, metaphor after metaphorI'm more wetter than your boy biggerSo how you figure you can fuck with this rap unemploy niggaI should own a fly bitch house and a BenzBut I got chickenheads criminals and broke friendsthat love to get in, keep the seventeen spinninPull out from my jaw linin, commence to split endBrains and body parts that motion couldn't pictureCause when I'm shittin niggaz hit mo decks than a skipperMr and Mrs Howe, MaryAnne and GingerGilligan, you need the Professor to take the riggerwaters out I got orders to kill em softlyI wouldn't leave a trace if I died and police chalked meWho's the Boss G you better radio the walkie talkieFor the Fatal Attract MC's that stalk meGot a big dick and your bitch clickWhen I flip this I got more work than a olympic gymnastBust it, I cut the mustard, on any trackMilkier than Similak when I'm next up to bat("Redman is on the mic and I'ma..." "Dope motherfucker, yeah, you best ax somebody" -- Snoop)(Yesh yesh y'all, and you don't stop -- Sermon 8X)Fuck the talk I walk whatever I claim to doKnock a mule on her ass and turn her pussy black and blueYou couldn't run up if your Fighter was VirtuaI'm a round-the-clock lyricist, I sleep in my work bootsIt's a Thin Line Between Love and HateIt's a thin line between the trigger and the finger of a thirty-eightDeaths by far, my rap repatoirebe the art of murderin makin it hard for you to sparWe can chill and puff the ganja, but don't be mad when theFunk Doctor Spock smoke it with your baby mamaGet off my dick and tell your bitch to come hereMale groupies gettin shaky when I come from the rearHah, that get on your nerve neighbor that play themusic loud as fuck three in the mornin off a paperWith mad Zul in the L-S-CIn the downtown area, scannin the perimeterAll my boos with the open toed shoesIf you ain't gettin that pussy eaten right, let me show youThen let you taste these, this Brown Fox saidAin't No Nigga like the -- Funk Doctor Spock G(Yesh yesh y'all, and you don't stop -- Sermon 4X)As I dive into the crowdI wanna see who the fuck gettin loudWho da fuck runnin off at dey mouf?I let my nigga Fifty Cent knock that ass outWord bond, bitches talkin bout pourin out Cristaland Dom P they better stick to SadeBlackin out whylin, smackin out weavesBreak niggaz cheap ass chains and medallionsYou're just a part time sucker in the gameShit is real motherfucker start namin namesAnd if you name my name I whoop ass like Steven SeagalGive you Under Siege 2 without the fuckin trainLet your brains hang from the 808 bangAnd if I wrecked your cipher then my Squad is to blame(Yesh yesh y'all, and you don't stop -- Erick Sermon 12X then fades) We'll be right back with some more funk shit for all you stankin asses after we pay these billsmore