Текст (слова) песни: Brotha Lynch Hung - Spydie`s Birth

Yeah, I`m in the dark on these niggas...
Okay

[Verse 1]
Maybe they don`t know I`ma, O.E
You just a king cobra straight
No via satellite, it`d take more than a car battery to juice me
Killa appetite, never catch me actin` right
Smoke a two hundred sack a night, like an AK when I shoot these
Please believe I pack it right, produce rapid stripes(?)
They call me Randy Johnson, hundred and twenty miles an hour
...(?)
Nigga you must be off that powder, I`m Spiderman
Give me a blunt, pen, pad, and an hour, I`ll make it shower
My taliban, Siccmade Muzicc we keep it heated like Nascar (guess what)
Plain and simple patna, fill up the clip and then blast ours
Ain`t no rippin shit, it`s all S-I-double C, you trouble me
I`m loco in the cabesa and I`m siccer than the rest-a
I`ll blow your chest up, he need an ambulance
Two minutes left, he don`t have a chance, not even half a chance
Leave him with feces all in his pants when we pick him up
I rip `em up right out the dump truck `cause I`m

[Chorus]
Spiderman, Spiderman, try`na see how much you know you can
He sports the tec`s, any size
You playin` him close he might blow your mind
He`s deep in the cut, heat all around
Tryin` to find him he`s no where to be found
Okay, here comes the Spiderman
(Here comes the Spiderman...)

[Verse 2]
I`m like (?) snipers, I ain`t try`na brag, but here
You need these numbers to this place that be makin` body bags
I`m the kamikaze magnum while I`m draggin` um
To the spot, gotta get the ...(?)
Like roast beef, nigga I ain`t supposed to beef
But I love meat and I got Sacramento enemies, So I love heat
Got a sack of indo green leaves and I`m `bout to twist it
So move with me nigga, quick shit patna, you `bout to miss it
Now I don`t smoke with them busted browns(?), I clutch the pounds
And if you fuck wid it I rub ya down
With seventeen rounds, crack the everclear now
Forever real now, spittin` at the whole crowd verbs and nouns
And no felonies so I pack somethin` heavy
I took the Chevy to the levy, two hundred and fifty pounds of red meat `n feddy
You got it twisted up like crazy Eddie ...(?)
From two hundred and yards away I make ya head bleed steadily

[Chorus]

[Verse 3]
Bet I could teach ya how to dissect your stomach muscles `n eat `em
These days that ain`t shit, cut `em and bleed `em
I seen worse shit, fuck em and feed em bloody spaghetti
That Siccmade shit, cuddy get ready, bloody your Chevy interior quick
Muddy your driveway, that`s what I say
Fuck it, you `bout to die today
Got a chopper in the hideaway, don`t make me use it
Off a half pipe(?) with the Ol` 8 English, don`t make me lose it
I`m cry baby locc, that`s it
I`m from the block where you learn at sixteen
to load glocks, pack clips and smoke pot
Slumpin` Tupac, `Me Against The World` cuz it juice me
I got episodes and episodes like Ricky and Lucy
Drama shit, dead momma shit, don`t give a fuck shit
Rough shit, shut you up in the back of the truck shit
Them gangsta bitches love this, they jack off to it
I`m Spiderman, bitch ass nigga I thought you knew this

[Chorus] x2

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Меню » Главная » Музыка » Правила » В избранное	Музыка RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Текст (слова) песни: Brotha Lynch Hung - Spydie`s Birth Yeah, I`m in the dark on these niggas... Okay [Verse 1] Maybe they don`t know I`ma, O.E You just a king cobra straight No via satellite, it`d take more than a car battery to juice me Killa appetite, never catch me actin` right Smoke a two hundred sack a night, like an AK when I shoot these Please believe I pack it right, produce rapid stripes(?) They call me Randy Johnson, hundred and twenty miles an hour ...(?) Nigga you must be off that powder, I`m Spiderman Give me a blunt, pen, pad, and an hour, I`ll make it shower My taliban, Siccmade Muzicc we keep it heated like Nascar (guess what) Plain and simple patna, fill up the clip and then blast ours Ain`t no rippin shit, it`s all S-I-double C, you trouble me I`m loco in the cabesa and I`m siccer than the rest-a I`ll blow your chest up, he need an ambulance Two minutes left, he don`t have a chance, not even half a chance Leave him with feces all in his pants when we pick him up I rip `em up right out the dump truck `cause I`m [Chorus] Spiderman, Spiderman, try`na see how much you know you can He sports the tec`s, any size You playin` him close he might blow your mind He`s deep in the cut, heat all around Tryin` to find him he`s no where to be found Okay, here comes the Spiderman (Here comes the Spiderman...) [Verse 2] I`m like (?) snipers, I ain`t try`na brag, but here You need these numbers to this place that be makin` body bags I`m the kamikaze magnum while I`m draggin` um To the spot, gotta get the ...(?) Like roast beef, nigga I ain`t supposed to beef But I love meat and I got Sacramento enemies, So I love heat Got a sack of indo green leaves and I`m `bout to twist it So move with me nigga, quick shit patna, you `bout to miss it Now I don`t smoke with them busted browns(?), I clutch the pounds And if you fuck wid it I rub ya down With seventeen rounds, crack the everclear now Forever real now, spittin` at the whole crowd verbs and nouns And no felonies so I pack somethin` heavy I took the Chevy to the levy, two hundred and fifty pounds of red meat `n feddy You got it twisted up like crazy Eddie ...(?) From two hundred and yards away I make ya head bleed steadily [Chorus] [Verse 3] Bet I could teach ya how to dissect your stomach muscles `n eat `em These days that ain`t shit, cut `em and bleed `em I seen worse shit, fuck em and feed em bloody spaghetti That Siccmade shit, cuddy get ready, bloody your Chevy interior quick Muddy your driveway, that`s what I say Fuck it, you `bout to die today Got a chopper in the hideaway, don`t make me use it Off a half pipe(?) with the Ol` 8 English, don`t make me lose it I`m cry baby locc, that`s it I`m from the block where you learn at sixteen to load glocks, pack clips and smoke pot Slumpin` Tupac, `Me Against The World` cuz it juice me I got episodes and episodes like Ricky and Lucy Drama shit, dead momma shit, don`t give a fuck shit Rough shit, shut you up in the back of the truck shit Them gangsta bitches love this, they jack off to it I`m Spiderman, bitch ass nigga I thought you knew this [Chorus] x2 Нравится песня? Расскажи о ней друзьям: Прямая ссылка на текст песни Spydie`s Birth: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/101/1/19525.html Все тексты песен: Brotha Lynch Hung » Brotha Lynch Hung - On My Briefcase » Brotha Lynch Hung - Tried to Shoot » Brotha Lynch Hung - Locc 2 Da Brain » Brotha Lynch Hung - Suicide Note » Brotha Lynch Hung - Every Single Bitch » Brotha Lynch Hung - Went This Way » Brotha Lynch Hung - Datz Real Gangsta / Gangsta Shit » Brotha Lynch Hung - Catch You » Brotha Lynch Hung - Return Of Da Baby Killa » Brotha Lynch Hung - Return Of Da Baby Killa » Brotha Lynch Hung - Season of Da Siccness (The Resurrection) » Brotha Lynch Hung - One Mo Pound » Brotha Lynch Hung - Raw Edge Bullshit » Brotha Lynch Hung - Thats What I Said » Brotha Lynch Hung - Season of the Sick » Brotha Lynch Hung - Death Dance » Brotha Lynch Hung - X-Caliba » Brotha Lynch Hung - One Mo Pound » Brotha Lynch Hung - G-Status » Brotha Lynch Hung - Heatas Рекомендуем скачать: » Филипп Киркоров - Небо и земля » Фрейдкин Марк - ДАВНО КОГДА-ТО » Фрейдкин Марк - ПЕСНЯ ПРО КИМА » Филипп Киркоров - Сумасшедший вечер » Ф.Киркоров - Маленькая моя » Фактор2 - Марихуана 3000 » Фабрика звезд-3 - Коляда (Иван Купала+Фабрика звезд) » Фимиам - Солнце » Фактор2 - К малолетке » Фактор2 - Привидение » Фабрика - Мыльные пузыри » Филипп Киркоров - Безумица » Ф.Киркоров - Пташечка » Фрейдкин Марк - ПЕСНЯ ПРО ДИМУ » Фабрика звезд-4 - Я » Фристайл - Бог тебя накажет » Филипп Киркоров - Улетай, туча » Фидошные песни - Песня компьютеризированных разбойников » Фристайл - Кони, кони » Филипп Киркоров - Я твой король
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