Текст песни The Beatnuts - Hot (feat. Greg Nice)

Milk Me
Жанр: Rap
Исполнитель: The Beatnuts
Альбом: Milk Me
Длительность: 03:24
Рейтинг: 340
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: Stinkin_Masta

Текст:

This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot, hot This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot, hot This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot, hot This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot Big Ju, nigga, the host with the Moses Find a nigga up with the dough, with the toasters Hoes say I keep it up like posters Slap the first nigga that plays me the closest Still drunk, still grabbing cloches Dark and sneaky like the rats and the roaches Careful in the way you cats approach us 'Cause playa, you more out of shape than the coach is Junkyard nigga, collect yourself You're letting that persona effect yourself That's not enough armor to protect yourself If we catch you coming through the projects of Delph So be smart, duke and spread the wealth We've got cannons here, looking for a head to melt Hit you with 8 shots 'for the first one's felt That's how we do it around here situation dealt It's the Indiana Jones, funky stone city, cabrones Names ring like cellular phones Look back, fall back, catch a heart attack 'Cause there ain't nothing in the world, the nuts will ever lack This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot, hot This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot I ain't got time to be playin' games with the same jokers This wine don't stop, baby I stay focused You're whole gangsta's bogus Your the type to draw a weapon, just to draw attention [ The Beatnuts Lyrics are found on ] I pull your heart out, and leave you with your chest flaming With no special effects by Wes Craven This Psych Les reigning, tech and the mack spraying Duck, before you be on your back laying Know I'm saying?You asked for war I'ma take my gloves off and smack your jaw I just got back from tour, niggas running their mouth Like their gurillas took the guns in their mouth Now their not killas they not mad at me Now they just screaming, "Don't kill me, I have a family" It's big psych I push it down like gravity And bring the pain to your brain like a cavity It's the Indiana Jones, funky stone city, cabrones Names ring like cellular phones Look back, fall back, catch a heart attack 'Cause there ain't nothing in the world, the nuts will ever lack This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot, hot This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot Beatnuts rock on, rock on A Greg an' a, an' a, an' a, rock on, rock on Beatnuts rock on, rock on A Greg an' a, an' a, an' a, rock on, rock on Beatnuts rock on, rock on A Greg, an' a, an' a, an' a rock on, rock on Beatnuts rock on, rock on A Greg ana, ana, ana rock on, rock on This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot, hot This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot, hot This shit is so damn hot, hot This shit is hot, hot, hot
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