Текст песни La Coka Nostra - Bloody Sunday (feat. Big Left & Sen Dog)

A Brand You Can Trust
Жанр: Rap / Hardcore Rap / Underground Rap
Исполнитель: La Coka Nostra
Альбом: A Brand You Can Trust
Длительность: 03:13
Рейтинг: 2819
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: Jeam-T


[Verse 1: Everlast] Bloody Sunday, Black Sabbath The pope’s a pedophile with a drug habit We’re all clinically depressed, they got us all manic We keep swallowing their pills so we don’t fucking panic Run for the hills, grab your automatic Bring your big black boots and your fighting gloves Psychorealm’s in the house screaming out, “Fuck love!” Sick Side in the house screaming out, “Fuck love!” Hey yo back from the dead, back at it again It’s the antique pistol with the antigen Punk I’ll take your pistol, give it back and then You act up again you getting clapped, my friend This coka familiar vibe alone’ll kill ya King Kong ain’t got shit on this here gorilla Classic off the wall like Mike from Thriller A monster in a legend, hell this Godzilla [Chorus: Sen Dog] We got the heat for the streets The bag for the drop The kid body blow out your back with the pop The move and the shake The move and the wake Welcome to Hell, the Devil’s here to open the gate [Verse 2: Ill Bill] They say hip hop’s hanging from a noose like Saddam Hussein Then LCN make you jump around like House of Pain I take it back like purple rain envelopes Crazy Eddy episodes, break and enter hoes Every record sold’s equivalent to coke, homie Welcome to the Teradome, I’m inappropriate Like Kramer with a megaphone Black wind, fire, and steel, my mind’s ill Got you on a mission like a crackhead to find krillz [Verse 3: Big Left] I come from a place where the Apocalypse is now Armageddon, Nostradamus called it, you are now with the raw It’s unwarming light, sun turned to God, God turned to sun Murder one, no match, no blood and no gun Fire and brimstones, stem cell clones Minimicrophones implanted deep in your bones They tapping the phones, snapping the home (Clapping the chrome!) Ding-dong, click-clack, one in the back of the dome [Chorus x 2] [Verse 4: Slaine] I’m a rebel poet, my words are treated like it’s contraband I’m unresponsive to taunts of critics and wants of fans Angelic demonic chronic writer, a haunted man Mongrel monster with the murderers on conquered land I grew around some johns is junkies with bubkes scams Bar brawls, broken bottles, banging, and launching hands My shifty plans turn a risky chance to fifty grand Double it, watch these sissies stand in your pissy pants This game is getting me baptized, we bad guys Choose sides and yous guys is enemies or allies La Coka Nostra is a brand you can trust To roll with a pack of animals with cannons to bust [Chorus x 2]
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