Текст (слова) песни: Killah Priest - Bop Your Head

[intro: killah priest]

Yea, yea, yea, yea.

Yea, yea. fuck that!

Im set it off. yea, yea, ya shitted.

Ya in some shit now, son.

Its on now, mothafuckas can suck my dick.

Im back! fuck that shit!

Ready to eat niggaz up, beat they ass and erything, son.

Ima prove this shit, right here.

Me and my nigga. what!?

[killah priest]

The emperor, chief sinister, street minister

Guarenteed in two bars to finish ya

React like a cat when he arches back

Give a fake rapper a heart attack, once I start to rap

Im a vocalist, nigga, supposed to rip

Last poets told me this, hit ya in ya head wit my explosive fist

Then I finish ya off with my tremendous horse-kick

What now, nigga? look at ya, talk shit

Cant do it, cuz you aint got no teeth in ya mouth

And I know ya just tired of me, beatin ya out

Ya trained all year, in a karate class

It took one second, to put yo ass in a body bag

>from a shotty blast, I walk up in ya club and ya parties dont last

I like to pop shit, dont get me started

I slap yall mothafuckas like yall little kids in kindegarten

Squeeze yo head till yo kidneys harden

Now watch this, ima call my whole mothafuckin squadron

And tell niggaz to just start robbin

Cuz yall niggaz is fucked up

And brooklyn niggaz is really ready to get ya

I know how to hit ya, and cut ya open

But dont worry, cuz ima stitch ya, with a rusty screwdriver

[chorus: killah priest]

Niggaz bop yo heads to this, real shit

Call up yo clicks to this, its realness

You feel this in yo streets and village

Spare that new shit, priest killed it

Y! niggaz bop yo heads to this, real shit

Call up yo clicks to this, its realness

You feel this in yo streets and village

Spare that new shit, bus killed it

[canibus]

Yo, yo, yo

Yo Im a macabeast mc and I possess the ability

To run at top speed without bendin my knees

I destory shit, pin-point asteroids in orbit

Then, hurl niggaz thousands of miles an hour, towards it

Fuckin heathen, wrap my hands around ya neck region

Then I start squeezin til ya stop breathin

You weaklins is playin tug-of-war wit ya tongues

I knock the teeth out ya gums and suck the breeze out ya lungs

Hit ya wit a blow your physical frame could never sustain

Youll probably never walk ever again

Nigga, you think you rhyme sick? I leave you lyin stiff

Pull you behind my horse til I break ya spine, bitch

Stop cryin bitch, before I hit ya wit the iron, bitch

You cant rhyme bitch, the one triple nines mine bitch

The painll make ya voice change octaves

>from low-pitched to high-pitched, every hour we kill a hostage

We judge mcs by they lyrical fitness

And punish djs for puttin corny stickers on they mixes

Smack the stripper bitches for askin for our autograph and pictures

Youll be scared to leave the club wit us

You scratch my back, Ill scratch yours bitch

Ill eat ya salt-fish, if ya suck my sausage

I got an atomic sub, armed wit a sub-atomic scud

Ready to spill ya crimson-colored blood

The four horsemen on the back of four quadropeds

Puttin four hoof prints on ya foreheads, mothafuckas!

(there it is!) so bop ya heads to that, uh (there it is!)

[chorus]

[outro: killah priest]

Fuckin pussy emcees, gon get a shot in the eye

Yall niggaz talk behind niggas backs

Yall niggaz better bop ya mothafuckin heads before we blow it off

Ya fuckin perfume missin idiots

Yall niggaz always runnin, go run and tell that

Go on, runnin, run behind somebodys back

Run and tell that and take these fuckin slugs wit ya

We gon get ya mothafuckin clown

Yea...

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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: Killah Priest - Bop Your Head [intro: killah priest] Yea, yea, yea, yea. Yea, yea. fuck that! Im set it off. yea, yea, ya shitted. Ya in some shit now, son. Its on now, mothafuckas can suck my dick. Im back! fuck that shit! Ready to eat niggaz up, beat they ass and erything, son. Ima prove this shit, right here. Me and my nigga. what!? [killah priest] The emperor, chief sinister, street minister Guarenteed in two bars to finish ya React like a cat when he arches back Give a fake rapper a heart attack, once I start to rap Im a vocalist, nigga, supposed to rip Last poets told me this, hit ya in ya head wit my explosive fist Then I finish ya off with my tremendous horse-kick What now, nigga? look at ya, talk shit Cant do it, cuz you aint got no teeth in ya mouth And I know ya just tired of me, beatin ya out Ya trained all year, in a karate class It took one second, to put yo ass in a body bag >from a shotty blast, I walk up in ya club and ya parties dont last I like to pop shit, dont get me started I slap yall mothafuckas like yall little kids in kindegarten Squeeze yo head till yo kidneys harden Now watch this, ima call my whole mothafuckin squadron And tell niggaz to just start robbin Cuz yall niggaz is fucked up And brooklyn niggaz is really ready to get ya I know how to hit ya, and cut ya open But dont worry, cuz ima stitch ya, with a rusty screwdriver [chorus: killah priest] Niggaz bop yo heads to this, real shit Call up yo clicks to this, its realness You feel this in yo streets and village Spare that new shit, priest killed it Y! niggaz bop yo heads to this, real shit Call up yo clicks to this, its realness You feel this in yo streets and village Spare that new shit, bus killed it [canibus] Yo, yo, yo Yo Im a macabeast mc and I possess the ability To run at top speed without bendin my knees I destory shit, pin-point asteroids in orbit Then, hurl niggaz thousands of miles an hour, towards it Fuckin heathen, wrap my hands around ya neck region Then I start squeezin til ya stop breathin You weaklins is playin tug-of-war wit ya tongues I knock the teeth out ya gums and suck the breeze out ya lungs Hit ya wit a blow your physical frame could never sustain Youll probably never walk ever again Nigga, you think you rhyme sick? I leave you lyin stiff Pull you behind my horse til I break ya spine, bitch Stop cryin bitch, before I hit ya wit the iron, bitch You cant rhyme bitch, the one triple nines mine bitch The painll make ya voice change octaves >from low-pitched to high-pitched, every hour we kill a hostage We judge mcs by they lyrical fitness And punish djs for puttin corny stickers on they mixes Smack the stripper bitches for askin for our autograph and pictures Youll be scared to leave the club wit us You scratch my back, Ill scratch yours bitch Ill eat ya salt-fish, if ya suck my sausage I got an atomic sub, armed wit a sub-atomic scud Ready to spill ya crimson-colored blood The four horsemen on the back of four quadropeds Puttin four hoof prints on ya foreheads, mothafuckas! (there it is!) so bop ya heads to that, uh (there it is!) [chorus] [outro: killah priest] Fuckin pussy emcees, gon get a shot in the eye Yall niggaz talk behind niggas backs Yall niggaz better bop ya mothafuckin heads before we blow it off Ya fuckin perfume missin idiots Yall niggaz always runnin, go run and tell that Go on, runnin, run behind somebodys back Run and tell that and take these fuckin slugs wit ya We gon get ya mothafuckin clown Yea... Нравится песня? Расскажи о ней друзьям: Прямая ссылка на текст песни Bop Your Head: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/110/1/7994.html Все тексты песен: Killah Priest » Killah Priest - Excalibur » Killah Priest - Genesis » Killah Priest - Breathe » Killah Priest - Angels » Killah Priest - It`s Over » Killah Priest - C U When I Get There » Killah Priest - Tai Chi » Killah Priest - Do the Damn Thing » Killah Priest - If I Die » Killah Priest - Material » Killah Priest - If You Don`t Know » Killah Priest - Goodbye » Killah Priest - What Part of The Game » Killah Priest - I`m Wit That » Killah Priest - Maccabean Revolt » Killah Priest - Fake MC`s » Killah Priest - When Will We Learn? » Killah Priest - Movie » Killah Priest - Hard Times » Killah Priest - Royal Priesthood Рекомендуем скачать: » Фабрика - Он » Фристайл - Ах, какая женщина » Файер Владимир - Кто ответит, как жить » Фабрика Звезд - Мы выходим в эфир » Филипп Киркоров - Обручальная ночь » Форум - Островок » Фрида - Девушки хотят » Фрейдкин Марк - ФИЛЯ-ЛЯ-ЛЯ » Фабрика звезд-5 - Ой, ой (Глюкоза+ФЗ5) » Ф.Киркоров - Огонь и вода » Фристайл - Ну, когда ж ты влюбишься! » Фидошные песни - Песня компьютеризированных разбойников » Фристайл - Белая метелица (Метелица) » Филипп Киркоров - Ночка-чародейка » Фактор2 - Там, где не гаснут звезды » Фабрика Звезд - 2 » Фидошные песни - DOS, который построил Майк » Филипп Киркоров - Это лето » Феликс Даллада - Ах, наша жизнь беспорядочно скроена... » Ф.Киркоров - Килиманджаро
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