The Game - Gutta boyz

Letras de Canciones | Artistas con t | The Game |

Gutta boyz The Game

(We gangsta daddy!) [Sean T] Yuh! I´m sippin on that ´notiq the color of Hulk man And the blueberry smoke got a nigga twerkin You niggaz is perkin - so you doin it big? You roll deep but when I see you it´s just you and your kids I roll sick, my rims feel like helicopter propellers And my pockets run deep like a Mercer teller Haters trip when they see the whip dippin by The paint on it change like the I-95 I´m just Clyde, without the Bonnie, I got the hollowpoint heat for you niggaz and the po´ for the mamis Sean Gotti, I´m puttin an end to camraderie I´m lettin off heat, ´til them eyes get watery Some gon´ ricochet, some gon´ hit, y´all gon´ get ´em Fluids gon´ disperse out like refreshin club serum I´m deadly as bite venom but I´m far from a snake I´ll hit you up on your birthday while you cuttin your cake [Chorus: The Game] We gangsters nigga; you see the cars, the whips The chains, the fuckin broads we with We gangsters nigga; we´ll come through your hood a hundred deep and empty the whole clip We gangsters nigga; we got guns for the beef And my niggaz´ll put you under the street We gangsters nigga; so you better watch what you say ´Fore I empty the whole glock in your face [Sean T] Streets is tough, but ain´t no hopscotch lines on the ground Just burner shells, and police siren sounds Niggaz know who I am in the town; it ain´t a circus But it might as well be, cause you know I´ma clown I´m a terrain boss, I know most niggaz envious dawg And if a nigga owe me change you better give me it dawg If you feelin like you wanna leap, make like a frog You niggaz lame, transparent like Wonder Woman´s plane I´m a stunna in this game, a federal figure Blowin doj´ in the hummer, 50 K on my fingers I´m like a NASCAR winner poppin Mo´ and Bill{?} D-Squad don´t give a fuck about nobody else I pull a {?} to contain your whole, clique for hours The end result will probably be, pinewood and flowers So I´ll advise you deduct your QP´s and powder We gangsters and we jackin cowards (yup!) [Chorus] [Sean T] S.T. nigga D-Squad, G.G.D Don´t get it twisted motherfucker yeah we do creep We ride out thug, shit we don´t die We lay low like mechanics tryin to fix up rides A lot of cats say I´m sick in the head, when I anger it´s on Poodles gon´ be up missin or dead I chop haters up, like an old-ass sample Or creep through your village, like Stallone in "Rambo" I´m like piranhas on red meat, I´m on you niggaz You afros? Then I guess I got to comb you niggaz So break bread, when you see me dawg hit the flo´ I´m like a nigga off the X, unpredicta-ble Imitators always hollerin how gangsta they is But got about as much courage as the Lion in "The Wiz" Shit I´m into pullin shanks on you fake Jake cats Me and my burner hold it down man we go way back [Chorus] Visitas: 352

Con 0 votos

Encontraste algun error en la letra? Por favor dinos! Asi podemos hacer una mejor web para ti!

Este sitio es parte de la red Publispain.com
Asistencia || Intercambio de Links || Datos Legales || Grupo Publispain
Las letras de canciones pertenecen a sus autores y se muestran aquí por motivos educativos.