Текст (слова) песни: Method Man - Gold

[Intro: Method Man]

Aiyyo Shorty, yo that`s my word
Oh, y`all smellin y`all piss now y`all think y`all gold
Yo anybody get caught playin
Over here, I`m returnin em that`s my word that they be blasted
Anything from two-twenty to one-fourty, that`s mine
Y`all niggaz step the fuck off
Y`all niggaz ain`t crazy for real

[Chorus: Genius]

Yo, the fiends ain`t coming fast enough
There is no cut that`s pure enough
I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

[Verse One: Genius]

I`m deep down in the back streets - in the heart of Medina
About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor
Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise
So I can blast a nigga and his boys - for what?
He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales drop
Like the crashin of Dow Jones stock
I had to connect to cross seals, to catch more mil`s
Than ho-bitches got birth control pills
I`m in the park, settin up a deal over blunt fire
Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, they had em wired
Peeped my convo, the address of my condo
And how I changed a nigga name to John Doe
And while we set up camp, we got Vamp
Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart
Snake got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee
Blown out the frame, like Pan Am flight 103
He got swung on, his lungs was torn, the
kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn
A regular on the block, and played look-out
For playing predator with a glock, he should have took out

[Chorus:]

No neighborhood is rough enough
There is no clip that`s full enough
I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

The fiends ain`t coming fast enough
There is no cut that`s pure enough
I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload,
Product must be sold to YOU

[Verse Two: Genius]

It`s mandatory that
I supply all my troops with mega firearms
Big apes, and spread em out like crops on a farm
to get CREAM, sometimes they repaint the scene
Like the last episode on gates and other niggaz
plant bombs til the smoke from the blast becomes thick
and flows through all they knew, he`s gun sick
His glock clicks, like high-heeled shoes on parquay floors
Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars
Filthy foul, shoveling dirt, he`s out to hurt
For instance, chop off hands, attack worth
His idols would lock down airports and next extort
some import, catchin ten percent of what the fiends snort
Up in the ski resorts, up in hills
They move keys and had skis making drops on snowmobiles
The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers
And live large and bigger than my nigga
Who promised his moms a mansion with mad rooms
She died, and he still put a hundred grand in her tomb
Open wounds, he hid behind closed doors
And still organized crime and drug wars

[Chorus:]

The fiends ain`t coming fast enough
There is no cut that`s full enough
I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

No neighborhood is rough enough
There is no clips that`s full enough
I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold to YOU

The peers that come is tight enough
There is no niggaz that`s fucking up
I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload
Product must be sold... to YOU

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Прямая ссылка на текст песни Gold:
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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: Method Man - Gold [Intro: Method Man] Aiyyo Shorty, yo that`s my word Oh, y`all smellin y`all piss now y`all think y`all gold Yo anybody get caught playin Over here, I`m returnin em that`s my word that they be blasted Anything from two-twenty to one-fourty, that`s mine Y`all niggaz step the fuck off Y`all niggaz ain`t crazy for real [Chorus: Genius] Yo, the fiends ain`t coming fast enough There is no cut that`s pure enough I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload Product must be sold to YOU [Verse One: Genius] I`m deep down in the back streets - in the heart of Medina About to set off something more deep than a misdemeanor Under the subway, waiting for the train to make noise So I can blast a nigga and his boys - for what? He pushed up on the block and made the dope sales drop Like the crashin of Dow Jones stock I had to connect to cross seals, to catch more mil`s Than ho-bitches got birth control pills I`m in the park, settin up a deal over blunt fire Bum niggaz sleepin on the bench, they had em wired Peeped my convo, the address of my condo And how I changed a nigga name to John Doe And while we set up camp, we got Vamp Put the stake through his heart, I ripped his fucking fangs apart Snake got smoked on the set like Brandon Lee Blown out the frame, like Pan Am flight 103 He got swung on, his lungs was torn, the kingpin just castled with his rook and lost a pawn A regular on the block, and played look-out For playing predator with a glock, he should have took out [Chorus:] No neighborhood is rough enough There is no clip that`s full enough I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload Product must be sold to YOU The fiends ain`t coming fast enough There is no cut that`s pure enough I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload, Product must be sold to YOU [Verse Two: Genius] It`s mandatory that I supply all my troops with mega firearms Big apes, and spread em out like crops on a farm to get CREAM, sometimes they repaint the scene Like the last episode on gates and other niggaz plant bombs til the smoke from the blast becomes thick and flows through all they knew, he`s gun sick His glock clicks, like high-heeled shoes on parquay floors Mad sick, stand on hills and invade wars Filthy foul, shoveling dirt, he`s out to hurt For instance, chop off hands, attack worth His idols would lock down airports and next extort some import, catchin ten percent of what the fiends snort Up in the ski resorts, up in hills They move keys and had skis making drops on snowmobiles The plan was to expand, catch seven figures, release triggers And live large and bigger than my nigga Who promised his moms a mansion with mad rooms She died, and he still put a hundred grand in her tomb Open wounds, he hid behind closed doors And still organized crime and drug wars [Chorus:] The fiends ain`t coming fast enough There is no cut that`s full enough I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload Product must be sold to YOU No neighborhood is rough enough There is no clips that`s full enough I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload Product must be sold to YOU The peers that come is tight enough There is no niggaz that`s fucking up I can`t fold, I need gold, I re-up and reload Product must be sold... to YOU Нравится песня? 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