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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
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Текст (слова) песни: M-Child - Point `Em Out, Take `Em Out

[M-Child] [Chorus x2]

We them thugs from the south (south!),
`bout to turn it out (out!).
We them thugs from the south (south!),
`bout to turn it out (out!).
We them thugs from the south (south!),
`bout to turn it out (out!).
Point `em out, take `em out,
Point `em out, take `em out.

[M-Child]

Who I be, M-C-H-I-L, motherfucking D,
Erase the motherfucker who be talking about me.
Point `em out, take `em out, we do it so easily,
Everybody know the clique is the Kamikaze I.E.
Everybody know I`m from my hood that they come O.M.P.,
While my niggas count they money while chiefin` on brocolli.
Keep a pistol on my hip for you bitches with jealousy,
Quickly, D.I.E., my nigga, they history.
MC Mack and Scan Man, we taking over the land,
With a Gon` Madd plan, the bitches don`t understand.
`cause doubt it all time, eliminate who I can,
Take you bitches off the earth, sink `em like fucking quicksand.
It`s whatever down south, hoe,
Check out my new album, hoe.
Nigga with that atom, point `em out and take `em out, hoe.
Kamikaze niggas down for W.A.R.
Ride up on you with some heat, `cause a bitch you never ball,
Take `em out, nigga.

[Chorus x2]

[Nigero]

Shooting them things at your head, no one has shot ch`nigga,
Nothing but high-bullet lead coming out of them bitch` triggers.
Roll back, that Nigero, they get to mind a building,
Stealing you bitches lives, nigga, blood spill,
I`m nigga of the blood sport, inside short, nigga rough ride or you,
Forty-four calibur, this you gon` happen to,
Stumble on yourself when you enter my zone,
Or cross my path of blood bath, feel my force,
My rap bunking round after round, low-down, dirty sucka` thug,
Blood-shot red eyes, realize you `bout to get slugged.
The mug, the chest, to back, this boy just come back,
Annihilation, you`ll get connection, killed when I come back.
Now whippin` those step in this direction; you getting murdered.
Point this nigga out, I`m in the mood to put some hurt or some punishment,
On the suckers, reruckers to motherfuckers, in the misdemean.
Lay down, nigga, you history.

[Chorus x2]

[M-Child]

That microphone, you need to drop it,
To a nigga that`s gon` rock it,
Keep the club bouncing-jumping,
Until money bounce out they pockets.
Quit tripping off your face, Kamikaze in the place,
Best believe me all about a million dollar paper chase.
Ain`t no nigga stopping, you can try your opportunity be free,
Why you niggas off the Memphis streets be always muggin` me?
Just because you finally bought a Chevy and some gold teeth,
Now you claiming killa`, but bentley, you still a hoe to me.

[Nigero]

Nigga be the first to disperse those so just sit back and shiva`,
Fearin` this Kamikaze nigga, scared to hell of shells I deliver.
No need for no mess, on the game show, my identity..
It`s personal, get off your knees, hoe; that was some diggity.
Quit swinging, shakin` pacin`; what, you nervous? You restless?
You gutless, you heartless, I might as well make you chestless.
The richest world will get your ribs lost and filled,
With bullets; make a move, get killed, nigga.

[Chorus x2]

 

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