Текст песни M.O.P. - Fuck M.O.P

Ghetto Warfare
Жанр: Rap
Исполнитель: M.O.P.
Альбом: Ghetto Warfare
Длительность: 03:24
Рейтинг: 554
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: Partizan


My style's louder than a stereo Fouler than the snake when I kill these fuckin rappers then show up at the burials I don't mean to worry y'all, but I want y'all gone and this M-16 is the only way to hurry y'all Here's my last proposition, I'm treatin rap like crack If I don't sell the most, I gotta kill the competition Don't take it personal gotta go to jail and if I come back and don't have my cash then I'm hurtin you Got a business gun, wit industry bullets when it hit you motherfucker guaranteed it be jerkin you rings is so my contact will break up your man I'm a gentleman, my contract's a shake of a hand I make it hard so, only God could wake up your man cuz I do things the Don way it's Paniro the Ghost, Goodfella like, fucking Jim Conway leave no evidence Fuck a dead man, when I can leave off the scene wit dead presidents what, motherfucker, yeah Don't you ever try to fuck wit M.O.P. and Styles BUCKAH-BUCKAH-BU-BUCKA-BU-BUCKA-BUCKA-BLAOW!!! This is for the hood and niggas that's wild BUCKAH-BUCKAH-BU-BUCKA-BU-BUCKA-BUCKA-BLAOW!!! If you 'bout to die or you blowin the trial BUCKAH-BUCKAH-BU-BUCKA-BU-BUCKA-BUCKA-BLAOW!!! We're gangsta ass niggas that been flowin awhile BUCKAH-BUCKAH-BU-BUCKA-BU-BUCKA-BUCKA-BLAOW!!! Ayo let's do it for the hood Where there's alotta homicides at Where killers ride at, and OG's reside at It's rugged son, I love it son I see it every day Fuck that, we'll find another way to play so don't mistake me for no rap artist missin old dude is from the old school he abide by the old rules and our pro-tools, is 38 longs The crime rate will inflate, and the murder rate is strong How could we get along and you doing this underhanded faggot shit, you faggot bitch we gotta get you gone, [chapter one] William Danze songs All disloyal guys should be shot in they back once, and left paralyzed [game over now] You gon change me how what you thought would happen when they chained me to Fame and Styles You ask in the hood about it, all it can be is L! M! O! O! X! P! motherfucker! You keep thinkin when I flow pa, it's a wrap but when your ass get beat wit a crowbar, it's a wrap for real, we straight thug it Read my palms, you see more chapters than L. Ron Hubbard Huh, we done dealt more drugs than Genovese made dope fiends outta school principals and deans now they all fucked up, career finished got they ass noddin in front of the Methodon clinics We thug it all day, but it aint the Henny in me It's that Brownsville shit wit a splash of trinny in me All I need is a hammer, and a clip load I'll stomp, do whatever, state, borough, zip code It's the M.O.P.! mashin through your ghetto rippin heavy metal, [we ruff ryde] wit Paniro Listen up, y'all better respect the criminal shit of these OG's what's poppin nigga We can beef I don't give a fuck Cuz if you kill me, I got niggas that'll bend up your son It's the world's most gutterest Paniro the Ghost, they thought of me when they invented the gun To tell the truth I prefer the knife cuz he physical nigga I go in your chest I show you how to murder right It's deep, I'ma kill your mother and I don't care if I die Cuz all that mean is that I gonna join my little brother dog, I had a hard life and I'm in love with the pain Thug in the game wit heroin and hard white Back to the guns the way I squeeze off threes off leave a hole in your stomach, take a nigga knees off Face gets splattered around, too many cops for the glock fuck it dog, then I'm battin you down don't you ask me what's happenin now This aint a rerun… (продолжение не влезло)
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