Текст (слова) песни: Brotha Lynch Hung - On My Briefcase

(lynch):

Now on my briefcase was some crumbled weed

A pack of saravegas and a 24 ounce o.e.

Might as well skeez these couple of hoes

In my 69 malibu sittin on trues and vogues

For days you might have seen me in my cinnamon cut chrome shoes

With some you cant see me tint on the windows indo syndrome

Smokin it up, not givin a muthafuckin fizuck

Sold the cut, my ex-hoe said that niggas sqautin what?

Got at the homie carl, and got some of that bomb

Had me so fuckin high I got off like vietnam

Dead bodies and bitches clits simmerin in the crock pot

And the shit dont stop until my muthafuckin chronic or high drop

Its just that insane type of thang, let the mac rain guts in the drain

Siccmade niggas they make the world go round

And if you fuck with siccmade music you can get your ass gunned down

(phonk beta):

I had a homie who stayed up in alaska, used to transfer flights over nebraska

And flew me back about a ounce of that alaska indica weed

And out of the whole zip possessed one seed

Had it wrapped real tight all up in cellophane

Cant have the k-9 dogs smell it, man

If only you saw what I was seein, the buds was almost pure white, not green

Had to be one of those one hitter quitter dome splitters

Thats the type a tweed that makes you wanna fuck your baby-sitter

I roll a fattie, when I roll this fattie

Niggasll be all noid wonderin why they lookin at me

Bitches have the nerve to say my shit aint bomb

But itll have your lungs burnin, like your puffin on napalm

(zagg):

I wipe that sweat up off my forehead, Im off the cusche

Lay back and take a comfortable hit, with a q-tip, its splittin my lips

And my dome stays split off toothpicks

I hit a lick with a quickness, dumpin dead bodies in ditches

Appreciate the fact, come correct, cuz I could be vicious

Suspicion, comin up on recognition Im creepin up from behind

With a 12 gauge, non-fiction, Im all prepared to go for mine

So step in line, a couple of hits, dome split, I be lit on a for real base

With a machete Ill slice your neck just like them jason cases

Murder traces, but I aint pinned cuz theres no evidence

Slight scent of that purple cusche plant, and I can almost sense the essence

Whats the lesson? get tested, dont come if you cant come correct

Its that west coast shit for life I dont know what you expected

Im reckless, nevertheless Im a pimp in a bulletproof vest

Puttin it down, pound for pound, you need to take a step down

50 caliber rounds, Im runnin through your whole town

Buckin em down like doom set on deathmatch with the bfg-9000 cartoon

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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 - On My Briefcase (lynch): Now on my briefcase was some crumbled weed A pack of saravegas and a 24 ounce o.e. Might as well skeez these couple of hoes In my 69 malibu sittin on trues and vogues For days you might have seen me in my cinnamon cut chrome shoes With some you cant see me tint on the windows indo syndrome Smokin it up, not givin a muthafuckin fizuck Sold the cut, my ex-hoe said that niggas sqautin what? Got at the homie carl, and got some of that bomb Had me so fuckin high I got off like vietnam Dead bodies and bitches clits simmerin in the crock pot And the shit dont stop until my muthafuckin chronic or high drop Its just that insane type of thang, let the mac rain guts in the drain Siccmade niggas they make the world go round And if you fuck with siccmade music you can get your ass gunned down (phonk beta): I had a homie who stayed up in alaska, used to transfer flights over nebraska And flew me back about a ounce of that alaska indica weed And out of the whole zip possessed one seed Had it wrapped real tight all up in cellophane Cant have the k-9 dogs smell it, man If only you saw what I was seein, the buds was almost pure white, not green Had to be one of those one hitter quitter dome splitters Thats the type a tweed that makes you wanna fuck your baby-sitter I roll a fattie, when I roll this fattie Niggasll be all noid wonderin why they lookin at me Bitches have the nerve to say my shit aint bomb But itll have your lungs burnin, like your puffin on napalm (zagg): I wipe that sweat up off my forehead, Im off the cusche Lay back and take a comfortable hit, with a q-tip, its splittin my lips And my dome stays split off toothpicks I hit a lick with a quickness, dumpin dead bodies in ditches Appreciate the fact, come correct, cuz I could be vicious Suspicion, comin up on recognition Im creepin up from behind With a 12 gauge, non-fiction, Im all prepared to go for mine So step in line, a couple of hits, dome split, I be lit on a for real base With a machete Ill slice your neck just like them jason cases Murder traces, but I aint pinned cuz theres no evidence Slight scent of that purple cusche plant, and I can almost sense the essence Whats the lesson? get tested, dont come if you cant come correct Its that west coast shit for life I dont know what you expected Im reckless, nevertheless Im a pimp in a bulletproof vest Puttin it down, pound for pound, you need to take a step down 50 caliber rounds, Im runnin through your whole town Buckin em down like doom set on deathmatch with the bfg-9000 cartoon Нравится песня? Расскажи о ней друзьям: Прямая ссылка на текст песни On My Briefcase: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/101/1/19559.html Все тексты песен: Brotha Lynch Hung » Brotha Lynch Hung - Rest In Piss » Brotha Lynch Hung - Locc To The Brain » Brotha Lynch Hung - Loaded » Brotha Lynch Hung - Situation On Dirty » Brotha Lynch Hung - 1 Die 1 » Brotha Lynch Hung - Situation on Dirty » Brotha Lynch Hung - EBK4 » Brotha Lynch Hung - Frustrated » Brotha Lynch Hung - Friend Of Mine » Brotha Lynch Hung - Thats What I Said » Brotha Lynch Hung - Jackin` 4 Joints » Brotha Lynch Hung - Get Bacc Time » Brotha Lynch Hung - Deep Down (featuring Mr. Doctor) » Brotha Lynch Hung - Locc to The Brain » Brotha Lynch Hung - Did It and Did It » Brotha Lynch Hung - Death Dance » Brotha Lynch Hung - Feel My Nature Rize » Brotha Lynch Hung - The Corpse Came to Dinner » Brotha Lynch Hung - Lose a Hoe, Gain a Hoe » Brotha Lynch Hung - On My Briefcase Рекомендуем скачать: » Дмитрий Бикчентаев - Парафраз на тему старого вальса » Детские песни - Голубой вагон » Дети Пикассо - Как Будда » Днепров Анатолий - Круг друзей » Дискотека Авария - Песня Снегурочки » Дима Билан - Ночной хулиган » Дмитрий Шульпов - Пожелание песней » Дмитрий Бочеко - Спасибо что дослушали меня... » Данко - Московская ночь » Дмитрий Бикчентаев - Пускай они, мазурики, живут себе, живут » Дмитрий Маликов - Шепотом » Дискотека Авария - Песенка разбойников » Дмитрий Кимельфельд, Валерий Сергеев - Письмо гусара Галицкого графине Талалаевской, найденное в архиве графьёв Талалаевских » Дмитрий Воронков - Прощание » Диана Гурцкая - Я люблю вас всех » Дмитрий Маликов - На полночных бульварах » Дмитрий Воронков - Памятник » Денис Рыжов - Посвящение Вадиму Егорову » Динамит - Которая была с тобой » Дмитрий Шульпов - Когда-нибудь возникнет свет...
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