Текст (слова) песни: Brotha Lynch Hung - X-Caliba

* send corrections directly to THIS typist

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left
And you don`t know nuthin but the killa gotta away
Before 4.30 in the morning I`m gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup
Cuz I`m swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung]
It all started when I twisted the lid of the Olde E
And see E-A-R-double-O-E... ... ... (??)
Where my motherfuckering siccmade jacked at
Cuz that`s the only one I could use
When I saw you at the war yeah when I lifted you out your shoes
It was the pressure from the twenty game (the twenty game)
Felt like it could split your chest whide open wit it
Well nigga you should when I`m round talkin that shit
Bout the nigga that`s my kin-folks
Should knew the wheel while you was givin up that info...
...mation, I`ll be of that Parry Mason
When I hit em all up, creep em all up, kill em all up, fill em all up
Real deal, dig a ditch give em hit a licc then take the grip
Put em in the back of the Cadillac show em how my Mini-Mac gonna act
My tactics is lethal
Leave the whole town hella smokey
like that band that steppin over dead people
It`s like that, and you wouldn`t know it cuz I`ma cool ass mufucca
Then dump on a gang of succas
as I wait for the city to heat up like a Hot Pepper
Gotta whole load fulla Evian
and a trunck fulla FO take no`s and I can`t let go
Catch you at yo show slippin
Hoes trippin, rows rippin in the street after I heat my heat of
I`m of the hook with this siccmade shit, straight made nigga
Fuck it, pass me the straight lace liquor to the face nigga
Off the Thunder Burger and Kool-Aid and O 8
Easy on the liver still make me kill a nigga
Split you head like a pineapple
Die natural!
Five at your dome send em home in a pinebox
Lift you out your sox
Pay attention to the Glock
Half pass a niggas ass where aimen at the grass take suitcase fulla cash and mash
16 in the clip crumble the urb roll a sliff bout to whatch you brain split in half
Bloody bath watter, infried nigga nuts and bones locaded at home I think him name is Tyrone
But you know...

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left
And you don`t know nuthin but the killa gotta away
Before 4.30 in the morning I`m gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup
Cuz I`m swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 2: Brotha Lynch Hung]
You can call me black Sadam Huseain
Pump St Idees through my wein ass nigga
You can see me on the southside of the street
Man remembered by the ((opposet)) nigga that flod the city
Get ready for some pretty if you sicc like Frank Nitty
Sucked blood from my momas tittie - instead of milk
Played murda muzicc in my tape deck - instead of Silkk
Enden up killen one of them motherfuckers
So fuck them hoes, they like Grim
havin killin niggas like they gots to go
With the 380M - got high til seven
Jump in what you call it headin throughwards heaven, whit my
50 sacc of some shit, that`ll make you get there
About 11:30 with your T-shirt dirty,
I`m worthy strapped like James as ventured in this faulty game
In a mainframe, that I bucked in ruff terrain, then hit the plane
15 guts on a tripple beam scale nigga
acual contact from the strap that I hale nigga

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left
And you don`t know nuthin but the killa gotta away
Before 4.30 in the morning I`m gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup
Cuz I`m swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

[Verse 3: Brotha Lynch Hung]
They got this motherfucker twisted up
And from the sound of the barrle I got hella motherfuckers runnin up
What should I do about these fuckin fleas?
Give em all A-1 and put they seeds in they weed
Figga a way out this nigga I know you got me in file
But I got you on scanner so plan anotha way (anotha way)
Told me it was (?Coda steady?)
But I catch you slippin like pimpin
and shake bankin like (?Trail Leonard?)
Hit your mind workin these swine
tripp time get`s deepa as you meat the Grim reapa
in the form of a man double M 24 5 got your brains leaking I`m peakin
That`s why these nigga wanna rip keep me
I`m rollin squeeky and what you want call it
witta .45 in my pocket and I`m a young alcoholic
Like P-Folks I had to make it happen
Sacramentos most wanted I gotta keep packin, cuz of that
My favorite cousin just go four years
And when his little brotha died he showed me no tears
your point is you get deep as the ocean
Take a shiesty niggas blood and rub it on like lotion
It was like: once apon a time a long time ago
I was sticken 9 milis in a pussy hole
Get of the Ol 8 old Murda moe then i gotta go to a spot
when they don`t know I`m the leath nigga given up my info

[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left
And you don`t know nuthin but the killa gotta away
Before 4.30 in the morning I`m gone in the 6-Tre
Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup
Cuz I`m swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up
(X-caliba *echo*)

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Прямая ссылка на текст песни X-Caliba:
http://musworld.ru/music/eng/101/1/19539.html


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 - X-Caliba * send corrections directly to THIS typist [Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung] That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left And you don`t know nuthin but the killa gotta away Before 4.30 in the morning I`m gone in the 6-Tre Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup Cuz I`m swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up (X-caliba echo) [Verse 1: Brotha Lynch Hung] It all started when I twisted the lid of the Olde E And see E-A-R-double-O-E... ... ... (??) Where my motherfuckering siccmade jacked at Cuz that`s the only one I could use When I saw you at the war yeah when I lifted you out your shoes It was the pressure from the twenty game (the twenty game) Felt like it could split your chest whide open wit it Well nigga you should when I`m round talkin that shit Bout the nigga that`s my kin-folks Should knew the wheel while you was givin up that info... ...mation, I`ll be of that Parry Mason When I hit em all up, creep em all up, kill em all up, fill em all up Real deal, dig a ditch give em hit a licc then take the grip Put em in the back of the Cadillac show em how my Mini-Mac gonna act My tactics is lethal Leave the whole town hella smokey like that band that steppin over dead people It`s like that, and you wouldn`t know it cuz I`ma cool ass mufucca Then dump on a gang of succas as I wait for the city to heat up like a Hot Pepper Gotta whole load fulla Evian and a trunck fulla FO take no`s and I can`t let go Catch you at yo show slippin Hoes trippin, rows rippin in the street after I heat my heat of I`m of the hook with this siccmade shit, straight made nigga Fuck it, pass me the straight lace liquor to the face nigga Off the Thunder Burger and Kool-Aid and O 8 Easy on the liver still make me kill a nigga Split you head like a pineapple Die natural! Five at your dome send em home in a pinebox Lift you out your sox Pay attention to the Glock Half pass a niggas ass where aimen at the grass take suitcase fulla cash and mash 16 in the clip crumble the urb roll a sliff bout to whatch you brain split in half Bloody bath watter, infried nigga nuts and bones locaded at home I think him name is Tyrone But you know... [Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung] That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left And you don`t know nuthin but the killa gotta away Before 4.30 in the morning I`m gone in the 6-Tre Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup Cuz I`m swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up (X-caliba echo) [Verse 2: Brotha Lynch Hung] You can call me black Sadam Huseain Pump St Idees through my wein ass nigga You can see me on the southside of the street Man remembered by the ((opposet)) nigga that flod the city Get ready for some pretty if you sicc like Frank Nitty Sucked blood from my momas tittie - instead of milk Played murda muzicc in my tape deck - instead of Silkk Enden up killen one of them motherfuckers So fuck them hoes, they like Grim havin killin niggas like they gots to go With the 380M - got high til seven Jump in what you call it headin throughwards heaven, whit my 50 sacc of some shit, that`ll make you get there About 11:30 with your T-shirt dirty, I`m worthy strapped like James as ventured in this faulty game In a mainframe, that I bucked in ruff terrain, then hit the plane 15 guts on a tripple beam scale nigga acual contact from the strap that I hale nigga [Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung] That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left And you don`t know nuthin but the killa gotta away Before 4.30 in the morning I`m gone in the 6-Tre Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup Cuz I`m swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up (X-caliba echo) [Verse 3: Brotha Lynch Hung] They got this motherfucker twisted up And from the sound of the barrle I got hella motherfuckers runnin up What should I do about these fuckin fleas? Give em all A-1 and put they seeds in they weed Figga a way out this nigga I know you got me in file But I got you on scanner so plan anotha way (anotha way) Told me it was (?Coda steady?) But I catch you slippin like pimpin and shake bankin like (?Trail Leonard?) Hit your mind workin these swine tripp time get`s deepa as you meat the Grim reapa in the form of a man double M 24 5 got your brains leaking I`m peakin That`s why these nigga wanna rip keep me I`m rollin squeeky and what you want call it witta .45 in my pocket and I`m a young alcoholic Like P-Folks I had to make it happen Sacramentos most wanted I gotta keep packin, cuz of that My favorite cousin just go four years And when his little brotha died he showed me no tears your point is you get deep as the ocean Take a shiesty niggas blood and rub it on like lotion It was like: once apon a time a long time ago I was sticken 9 milis in a pussy hole Get of the Ol 8 old Murda moe then i gotta go to a spot when they don`t know I`m the leath nigga given up my info [Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung] That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left And you don`t know nuthin but the killa gotta away Before 4.30 in the morning I`m gone in the 6-Tre Wit the windows up, must have had gin in the cup Cuz I`m swervin in the fast-lane gotta be spinnin em up (X-caliba echo) Нравится песня? Расскажи о ней друзьям: Прямая ссылка на текст песни X-Caliba: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/101/1/19539.html Все тексты песен: Brotha Lynch Hung » Brotha Lynch Hung - On My Briefcase » Brotha Lynch Hung - Deep Down » Brotha Lynch Hung - Season of the Sick » Brotha Lynch Hung - X-Caliba » Brotha Lynch Hung - EBK4 » Brotha Lynch Hung - I`m Bout It » Brotha Lynch Hung - One Of The Last » Brotha Lynch Hung - Secondz a Way » Brotha Lynch Hung - Refuce 2 Looze » Brotha Lynch Hung - Went This Way » Brotha Lynch Hung - I Went From » Brotha Lynch Hung - 1 Die 1 » Brotha Lynch Hung - One of the Last » Brotha Lynch Hung - Welcome 2 Your Own Death » Brotha Lynch Hung - Locc 2 Da Brain » Brotha Lynch Hung - Siccmade » Brotha Lynch Hung - Suicide Note » Brotha Lynch Hung - Rest In Piss » Brotha Lynch Hung - One Mo Pound » Brotha Lynch Hung - Nigga Deep (The First Recordings) Рекомендуем скачать: » Евгений Бабенко - Осенний вальс » Елена Гурфинкель - Я во снах вижу лица любимых людей... » Евгений Клячкин - Цыганочка » Евгений Келлер - Непогода » Евгений Клячкин - Сказка » Е.Орлов - Что-то очень личное » Евгений Клячкин - Песня об утреннем городе » Елена Казанцева - Я люблю мужчинам строить глазки... » Егор летов - Дрызг и брызг » Евгений Романов - Символ веры » Евгений Клячкин - Отчего сегодня так сосульки звенят... » Екатерина Барановская - Посвящение добрым друзьям » Елена Гурфинкель - Был декабрь негордым... » Елена Зосимова - Две капли » Ефим Ташлицкий - Возвращение » Евгений Слабиков - Зимнее утро » Егор и опизденевшие - Иваново детство » Е.Кукарская - Мой милый друг » Елена Фролова - Урок русского » Евгений Келлер - Бумага
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