название:

Outro


автор:

Lostprophets


жанры: rock, alternative
альбомы: Start Something
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 4.7 / 675 просмотров
[Bun B:]
Yeah, when I step in the spot, motherfuckers say, "Who that?"
Big Bun B, but you already knew that.
Live from the state where they chop it and screw that.
You hatin' on the trill OG, where they do that? (For real!)
Motherfuckers need to get off the dick, man,
Fall the fuck back like a bike with no kickstand.
Get out my mix, man, just go' get you stuck
Deeper in the quicksand with no easy fix, man.
No tricks, man, those is for kids,
Kush in my cigar, and hoes in the crib,
Drank and the 20 ounce froze in the fridge.
You fuckin' with PA so you know what it is.
I'm sittin on the fours that clack,
Comin' down candy in the golden 'Lac,
We gettin' to the money like it's Goldman Sachs,
And we do it for the pimps that are holding back, let's go!

[Nas:]
Look, who crept in with automatic weapons,
Reppin' QB till the death of him,
That nigga that inspired lyrical tyrants like Kanye West and Em.
Track record, goes back to the essence,
Smack adolescents who ask, who the best is.
I'm nasty like gas from a fat man's intestines,
I pass it, you gaspin' for breath and you die fast,
Got 'em like a gastric bypass.
But ya Nas advocates actors seemed to get typecast in the same role.
Since 16 I ain't grow a day old, yet my brain grow.
Cocaine white Range Rov'.
Tats on my body like an art exhibit,
I did real good for a project nigga.
Was once a Bacardi sipper, now it's Chandon,
Fat blunts in the car with strippers,
Guns in compartments hidden.
I was real young, little youth, a novice nigga,
Blessings, bowed down, respected,
Chowed down, now my food's digested.
Pow pow! With my shooters are Techs
That'll bust louder than the noise that I just spit.
Let's get one thing straight that my crown ain't for testin', testin'.
Chop heads off like King Henry the Eighth,
Guillotine to ya neck, bitch!
I'm a king in this thing, don't be dumb,
Been in this shit since '91,
Niggas can't fuck with the style I use,
Your fate is sealed, no Heidi Klum.
Calm now, was a wylin' dude,
Studied cowards and made power moves,
Watched Wild Planet seen lions devour food,
You can say that's how I move.
A monster nigga, and I don't really like doing songs with niggas,
There go my nigga Wayne,
Let them niggas hate or like my nigga Drake say,
"We ain't got time to respond to niggas".

[Shyne:]
I'm a villain, I'm a villain, all that happens in the street,
Poverty and desperation made me everything I be.
I'm a shotta, when I pop up with them poppers burn ya block up,
Call the judges, call the coppers, we takin' over Gotham.
Word to Poppa, Blood gang five,
It's that Blood gang five, but green is the bottom line.
I run this town, I ain't gon' lie, they run they mouth, they ain't gon' fight,
They actin' like they ain't gon' die until I let them 'llamas fly.
Flatbush to Bed-do-or-die, from Watts to Larry Hoover Chi,
Poverty and heroine, it's no place for a juvenile.
Put greed in our heart, it's the green that we want,
Cash Money is the company and Weezy the boss!

[Busta Rhymes:]
They say I'm underrated, but un-compete-with-able!
Understandable, being that my rating levels are unreachable!
Anything said other than that should be silenced, unspeakable!
And the thought of you being nicer than me, unfeasible!
They ask is what I do ever gonna stop, this shit will never end!
That's when you hear a car crash in the vocal booth got 'em sayin', “There he goes again!"
See now they nominated a nigga to come and
Flatten everything, now let me dominate it, nigga, run,
And they be knowin' that I be blackin' on everything
And make it complicated like a nigga constipated with a gun,
I gotta make it what they want and wake ‘em when I come,
And shake 'em, and bake 'em, and take 'em to another place,
Ain't no fakin', ain't no kind of mistakin' how I be breakin'
Up everything and be creating a s-s-s-situation when I'm done! (Damn!)
You see I spit National Treasure, discography rich.
And I done killed more cats than curiosity, snitch!
Most of you niggas sorry and owe apologies quick,
What the fuck you niggas still hangin' around here for, you apostrophe bitch?
Okay, now enough of that, see now I'm out the door.
Tunechi, thanks for giving us a whole 'nother classic with Tha Carter IV.
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Это интересно:Lostprophets — рок-группа из Уэльса, основанная в 1997 году. Они выпустили несколько демо-записей, пять студийных альбомов и тринадцать синглов. Их первый альбом The Fake Sound Of Progress был изначально записан за одну неделю при расходах всего 4000 фунтов стерлингов и был задуман поначалу как демо-альбом, но группа перезаписала и переиздала альбом в гораздо больших масштабах на лейбле Columbia Records в США, хотя... продолжение
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