Текст (слова) песни: Brotha Lynch Hung f Cos - Art of War

 
[Lynch Talking] 
Art of War nigga, (nigga get in) 
The art of war, (I know where he at) 
Dedicated to the niggaz 
that feel they need to make a living off niggaz 
You know, check it out 
 
[Brotha Lynch Hung] 
I smell pussy push me, I got a hard dick for killin` 
Go head and start shit wid the villain 
and get your heart split in a million pieces 
You need Jesus I can tell by your releases please 
He suck nuts for cheese somebody grease his knees 
If you suck nuts for a livin` trust me at least it`s these 
Lynch haul all up in ya mouth tryna release the steam 
And you can rub it on like Visine 
And you can dub it all in high speed and watch that bitch nigga scream 
And it`s nothin` it`s no thing I hit the corner 
You was lucky and nosy nervous at the corner 
I woulda grabbed the body stabbed the body 
Then cut the body up like meat and eat `em ganja leaves 
Grab the shotty and get away got away scott clean 
So you grab the body I`m in the Mozarotti 
Smashin` down I street, all the way from the jail house 
Gave it a chance and then I had to bail the hell out 
Tight shit but I don`t wanna go through that 
Sittin` wid my celly like, how did I do that? 
See I had to leave `em blue black, the fool`s back 
Wid spits like jackler when ya runnin` wid two gats 
 
[Hook: scratching of these lines] 
"There`s a war going on outside" 
"The way of life is the way of death" 
"Coming from the thirty six chambers" 
(x2) 
 
[Cos] 
Seems like I can`t mash these days 
Cause everybody wanna try to blast C way 
Like everybody wanna pass these days 
But talk shit about my click we gon` blast these K`s 
These niggaz gay cats jay cats walkin` cross the street 
When we see `em I`m mashin` like we on a race track 
These niggaz way wack, they knew that since way back 
That`s why when you gave me your shit it got no playback 
You niggaz play rap, we be on that real tip 
We in the Source mag, we gain the ill tip 
And if y`all don`t feel this, y`all must not feel shit 
Don`t buy that nigga album man he a real bitch 
This nigga tryna make a dollar off my nig`s shit 
Don`t talk shit to gain fame that`s some ill shit 
Come wid some real shit, and stop lyin` 
Cause you ain`t never shot nobody and copped a diamond nigga 
 
Hook 
 
[Brotha Lynch] 
Slim love you well slim joke, you been broke 
Soon as these Blocc niggaz find out ya M-O that`s all she wrote 
Cause Blocc niggaz don`t fuck wid nut riders we rough riders 
Glock `til they call me the truck driver 
I drive bodies down I-5 a, insane you`s a damn shame 
You don`t sell a damn thang to hoes, here`s ya damn fame nigga 
See you`s the same niiga that used to lick on the balls 
And hum when I had `em in ya jaws ask D-E 
I wrap CD cases and put `em on the shelf 
I told you motherfuckas I`ll gi` you a lil` help 
Cause if I really had funk wid you, I wouldn`t say shit 
Just spray shit, come get you, ya done dizzle 
All I gotta do is whistle and here comes the troops 
Siccmade niggaz stompin` in steel toe boots 
We get paid quicker I know it hurts but it`s the truth 
Pretty motherfucka I take out ya tooth 
Either that or watch the Uzi shake out the roof 
How you want it?, like Burger King I`m murderin` and his woman 
Trust me, it get tough out here 
Motherfuckers could end up in a trunk out here 
Can you feel it? 
 
Hook
 

Другие песни Brotha Lynch Hung f Cos :

Art of War