Текст песни MC Eiht - Kind Of Pimpish

Last Man Standing
Жанр: Gangsta Rap
Исполнитель: MC Eiht
Альбом: Last Man Standing
Длительность: 04:38
Рейтинг: 362
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: Bizarre42

Текст:

Come on y'all, hey And this how we gon' do it How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish Ho's get down like you live you know the business How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish Ho's get down like you live... Nigga better check yourself before you think about fuckin' with these Muthafuckas always makin' the cheese 187's for the triggers we squeeze Fool please, like a bitch Drop to your knees Be the bad-ass fool in the game All the ho's be scream my name Throwin' that ass, it's a damn shame Must the game So a nigga be bringin' the pain Ho's Still stand too tall and never fallin' Player haters perpetrate Standin' too close because we ballin' No competition But they wishin' they could dodge 5-0 Lay back in the cut Get sucked and fucked By a gang of hoodrat ho's Thought you knew The way we bring it to you it's on the real From the days of wayback packin' my strap On the West Side of the hill Always chill with a gang of ho's Cluck cluck pesos everyday Be the bomb, show you love So all the skirts head my way P-A-I-D, no T-L-C Hell no, we never beg Take the dick down your throat Don't choke and open up them legs Nuff said Presidents dead cause you know That be's the business Get down like you live cause y'all check it, what what is this How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish Ho's get down like you live you know the business How you likin' me now in 97 kind of pimpish Ho's get down like you live you know the business How you likin' me now, hey How you likin' me now, uh, geah one two How you likin' me now, geah, hey, geah I know the story's all the same But the names have changed so y'all can peeps my mission Nigga gone off the weed Tryin' to feed with speed and take my damn position Get my buck on, watch a nigga get the fuck on While he stabbin' I'm laughin' My nigga just got his duck on Lovin' it so it must be right can't be wrong With a pocket full of stones Rib bones and greenery, that's blown Home grown, watch your tone Homeboy you can't be from round here Westside 'bout it 'bout it, we blowin' chronic all year No fear For all the niggas and bitches in short skirts Don't fuck around, represent the town, nobody gon' get hurt More work, birds fly with ease, steady cluckin' cheese, you know? And y'all can't fuck around cause we dodge from 5-0 If you knew Then I guess its your time to straight go While you layin' in the ground, I creep around and fuck your ho' I thought you knew About this time We gotta get money I gotta get mine Chorus... Hey Come on y'all Half Ounce in the house one time Come on y'all, hey X-fact's in the house two times Come on y'all, hey How you likin' us now, geah
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