Текст песни Fredro Starr - Dyin 4 Rap

Firestarr
Жанр: Rap
Исполнитель: Fredro Starr
Альбом: Firestarr
Длительность: 03:25
Рейтинг: 653
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: SmokeDogg

Текст:

[Fredro Starr]: Dyin' 4 rap, the remix saga, throwin' shots to the top Catch you comin' out ya Bentley drop Run up, open a block, empty the glock I'm dyin' 4 rap, rap niggas nailed to the cross If you Christ to the game, nigga, die for the cost Send flames out to S-5, killin' ya Porshe Took a step back from the game, watch ya flip Did a few flips, fucked a few chicks, you can't fuck with me Bullet to bullet baby, check the glocks Spit slugs, one after another, play "connect the shots" Cock the flame, had another doc to range Make ya head rest part of ya brain, like that Bulletproof rap, rap with a gun in my back Two G's got niggas still throwin' they gats Onceyou cross to the other side, I'm bringin' you back I'm Firestarr, and I'm dyin' 4 rap [Capone]: To America's system, I'm double pharoah I speak wisdom, rebellin' on the BC spit My intuition on streets, keep bitchin' Push the hottest structure, deep dishin' stack dollars and buck Shootouts, got the hood hot as a fuck My criminal demeanor, got snagged and tash, sizin' me up Searchin the Beamer, niggas question who I run with A vest, a tech, and extra gun clip What you say might get your son hit Queensbridge, where my duns live Kiam was destined to rule, since my mother's stomach Understand what I am, a prophet, poetical targets for sabatage You can't stop me, gorilla at large, fuck a murder charge I spray at ya block, I spray at the cops I'm a hater, ya wrist shinin' and I fuckin' spray at ya watch I'm grimy, I'm sick of being broke, I'm sick of short sells I'm representin' jail murder to coke pots on the stoves [Norega]: Them niggas dyin' 4 rap, rap dyin' for me You can't see me a motherfucka, hot as me You see me dip through the traffic and I turn it up Them chicks takin' Ecstasy to suck my nut Straight gangsta, niggas compare me to Suge But they say I'm more fouler, yeah they should I got the "What? What" aout to fade the hood I still got coke on the streets, you know I'm good I'm from Queens, infrared beams and car hard jeans Them niggas dyin' 4 rap, rap dyin' for me [Young Noble]: This ain't no battle of the beats, this a battle of heat Battle in the streets, battle til we six feet deep Outlaw warrior, yeah Makaveli train Niggas mad how we rob, Makaveli's the blame Niggas dyin' 4 rap, I'm dyin' to snap Life was a game of dice, niggas dyin' to crap You dyin' to ride dick, you dyin' to lie stiff Frm dyin' to bar quick, get off my dick I'm like a fire starter, I wet ya car with FireStarr And garment before the cops'll call Shot you far dawg, ain't no runnin' away With 'Pac involved son, it can be done today Thug we dyin' for the cause, burners told you Outlaw Young Nob's, stayin' raw, and it's wall to wall [Cuban Link]: Yo, I'm the Spanish Casanova, livin' leathers 24 karat toke a far from marriage, in Paris We talkin' parrots on my shoulder, hold up THe mellow holdin' is Cuban, it's takin' over, I thought I told ya I'm doper than coke without the bakin' soda Drunk or sober, jump out the Rover, and fold you with a crowbar Throw a rop around ya neck, and do what Sosa did to Omar So far, my reportoire, got respect in no parts Like Joan of Arc, if you turn apart, rollin' til dark It's Terror Squad, from the start til I come across God No hold barred, most niggas got balls but no heart Who wanna run with the dot dada, nigga come holla from the Bronx Where they gun down punks for one dollar
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