Délka skladby: 00:04:43
Velikost souboru: 4.42 Mb
Počet stažení: 0
DOWNLOAD MP3 zdarma
Kliknutím na tlačítko stáhněte si mp3, souhlasíte s našimi podmínky.
Prosím, zadejte kód ke stažení mp3
Youtube video na: Fat Joe-John Blaze
Kód pro vložení na vaše stránky, blog nebo fórum.
Text skladby: Fat Joe-John Blaze
My stripes show like regiments, military intelligence Murder game, I leave no evidence, credentials Go ask my pre-school, even talk to my old principal He'd tell you how you I used to pack a No. 2 pencil
Stabbin' students, grabbin' teachers, Catholics, preachers In the school staircase, cuttin' class, passin' my reefer In my own class, operation return, they tried to say I was incompetent, not able to learn
The table turned now, got my own label to earn
Like that nigga said, in dead presidents, money I burn Queens bridge, pay homage, respect Nas is the vet Acknowledge the rep, polish baguettes, niggaz is dissin' that
I'm just the best, puttin' all violence to rest Between Latin Kings, the blood los sangres, blood in Spanish So many thugs vanish, unite the system To fight with inner street wisdom, to help teach a prison
My crew puff lye, anyone test the Pun must die Just give me one try, ?Now you know, you done fucked up right?? Hah, you ain't got no wins in my casa Que te pasa, you ain't even in my clasa
I hate a actor that plays a rapper I'm Terror Squad beta kappa everybody's favorite rapper Grand imperial college material insane criminal The same nigga who known to blow out your brain mineral
I reign subliminal inside your visual Try to supply your physical with my spiritual side of this lyrical I'll appear in your dreams, like Freddie do, no kidding you Even if I stuttered I would still sh-sh-sh-shit on you
Soon as I chitter chatter, you shitter shatter, I'm the kid Out of Bronx, that'll stomp you to death like it didn't matter I'm even better than before, iller metaphors Killers bet it all on Pun, cause one verse, dead em all
J-J-J-John Blaze Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
Aiyyo, my attitude is subject to change, I mess around And spit twelve at the driver's side door of your Range Six hit you, the other six, up in your dame Mafia style, leave you with your watch and your chains
Take heed that, not only can I flow I can aim 'Cause y'all misdemeanor niggaz can't stand the reign Better believe that, whenever I see y'all I'ma test ya Only cause I know that faggots respect pressure
Hardcore, like shit you get, kicked out the yard for 'Kiss ain't the cops, but I lock niggaz up You could meet me in my cell I soak and sock niggaz up Far as the flow go, you could let your dough show
Put your money on the table We could battle on cable Y'all hot dog niggaz get nathans Fuck around with Jason, that shorty from The Lox, John Blazin'
My son cool out (What) Don't beef yo, throw the tool out Let's run these niggaz, kidnap they work, make em move out Crushed hash, hands is like glass, keep the heat In the dash, did some dirt for some work, caught a gash
The flicker blocker, wicked sneaker rocker footwear Strike me out God, stackin' up joints, rack em like Footlocker This is raw, raw like fuck kid, represent Here to Crenshaw, hold my words stronger than a Benz stall
Relentless, the anthology consolidated With the quickness, dress up in the wig and blouse Killer sickness, Lex, imagination large, gold cards Beat the bogus squad brains that connect put on the Older God
Specialist, iciclist, Woolridge collar Feelin' the rich, work for every dollar don't snitch, that's why Broke niggaz who got heart God, sign em up Start the wind up, we John Blazin', Don up in the line up
J-J-J-John Blaze Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
It's simple mathematics, you gotta love us 'Cause Joey Crack plus gat equals a lotta dead motherfuckers Just when you thought I was done, I recruited Pun Terror Squad Enterprise, undisputed Dunn
I'm from the slums where it's worse, bust with guns 'til it hurts For fuckin' with my funds on the first And go to church like a mobster Discuss your death over shrimp and lobster with my Cuban partners
Lucas with the cartridge, twenty shot Run up on any block, disrespect any cop Used to run many spots, now I own shops Gortex with the lot, five sixty-four bills a pop
I'm hot, who wanna get burned? I fire one in your knot and watch your whole fuckin' head turn You best learn to parlay, I've had a hard day Fuck around with the Don and get John Blazed
J-J-J-John Blaze Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
J-J-J-John Blaze Ja-Ja-ah-John Bla-Blaze J-Ja-J-Ja, John Blaze Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed
MP3: Fat Joe-John Blaze
Youtube video na: Fat Joe-John Blaze
Text skladby: Fat Joe-John Blaze
