Print

G- guts to the rush - mad Like a pitbull ragin brothers be wagin (war) - suckers try to come hardcore When they tricks down with a - bitch It ain't nothin but a rough player skill comin from my dome Feel the pressure of the cyclone Tracks that we lay breakin backs, leave you breathless Funk Slave - a death wish And I aiin't too - damn thang Watch your back for the jack in -- So gain weight for the style I unleash, parner Chezski, Rube, herm-, Baby Beesh, partner - fingers in the gat- partner Whole album, check out the sound, partner So mister - Potna Deuce in the house and it's time to - Rube Nigga, cough it up, so we can chop it up and then we scoop it up and loop it up And get the whole motherfuckin crew to cut And if they like it, cool, if not, later for 'em Yeah, I said I played it for em, never said I made it for 'em - trick, and smell the Rossi No respect for hoes or those who smoke Ghadaffi Been upon the mic for quite a whole while now Green-stem buds got no love for the brown, pal Letras de cancionesI'm - eight in my brainwaves Run up in two tramps in the same day You feel the pressure - no jurisdiction It's just another mouth - to put they dicks in - snatch it, chop it with a hatchet Let them motherfuckers kknow what's up, boy, that's it -, never see me grinnin Twomp sacks come way fat, so put your bid in [Chez:] Puff up, smoke, stop-whiff Chezski, the - Ba-ba-bang, hit hard Bringin new styles so the punk suckers fall short Raised as a have-not poor, knew me Never had shit handed to me The rough type - - so you don't get wet Back-stabber trick - I see it Funk Slave soldier in the pain gettin heated Comin straight sick Wait, - and down for the slug fest - Crooked - aim, kill it pressure - strong - rough, feel it plus gast Rob G From Letras Mania