TOP песен исполнителя
"Dizzee Rascal"
"Dizzee Rascal"
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"Dizzee Rascal"
"Dizzee Rascal"
название:
автор:
жанры: grime, british
альбомы: Maths + English
Where's Da G's
автор:
Dizzee Rascal
жанры: grime, british
альбомы: Maths + English
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 5.4 / 1387 просмотров
- Текст
- Открытка с текстом
Dirty stank, yeah man I know that you think youre foolin But you aint foolin me, man I dont give a shit man, Im out here man Wherever you want man Sweat or fuckin blood, manLiar, liar, pants on fire You're not gangsta, you're not street You just make yourself sound gangsta When you're rappin on the beatYou ain't got yourself in no Life threatenin situations yet You're no dealer, you're not ballin You just get yourself in debtYou're a fan of hip hop, wankin When you hear them rappers talk Love to sit and listen But we know that you don't walk the walkWhat's with all the fake aggression I can see that it's not true I know killers, I know gangsters And they never heard of youYou ain't robbed nobody, shanked nobody You ain't bust no gun You ain't seen no ghetto action Who do you think you foolin, son?You should pull your trousers up You know it ain't your type of look You're no playa, you're no pimp I think that you should read a bookAnd seckle Find yourself a pretty girl and settle You know that if it's on That you ain't drawin for no metalI know them rap songs got you thinkin You're some kind of G Well if that's the case, then que sera And what will be will be, boyWhere's the G's? Where's the stars? Where's the whips? Where's the cars? Where's that cribs and where's the yards? Cause all I see is hypeWhere's the dough? Where's the cash? Where's the hoes? Where's the gash? Where's the blicks and where's the mash? Cause all I see is hypeToo many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I hear is dead hooks on the TV Bein real these days ain't easyToo many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I see is bare poop on the TV Bein real these days ain't easyWell it's big Bun B and I'm back again Talkin that shit on the track again Too many motherfuckers be lyin about Sellin, buyin and traffickinI'm like, really though what's happenin You boys talk about that crack again? Cause we don't believe you, need more people Y'all might as well just pack it inShow me the paper you're stackin in Show me the blocks you got on hold Show me your workers, show me your shooters Lemme see the neighborhood you controlLemme see if you a boss And if motherfuckers is scared of you And if somebody tryin to take your shit Let me see what you prepared to doAre you ready to go to war? Are you ready to shoot to kill? Are you really gon' man-up or bitch-up? Just tell the truth for realAre you ready to take a life Walk up to 'em and squeeze the trigger I don't think so cause you ain't built like that So just be easy, niggaCause you know, you ain't 'bout no drama And you know that you really don't want it So stay the fuck out of the way When them trill-ass niggas is on itDizzee Ras and UGK You know we stay connected Trill recognize trill, so just respect it And check it and tell meWhere's the G's? Where's the stars? Where's the whips? Where's the cars? Where's that cribs and where's the yards? Cause all I see is hypeWhere's the dough? Where's the cash? Where's the hoes? Where's the gash? Where's the blicks and where's the mash? Cause all I see is hypeToo many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I hear is dead hooks on the TV Bein real these days ain't easyToo many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I see is bare poop on the TV Bein real these days ain't easyWhere the Benz and where the hoes? Candy niggas with candy clothes Where the cocaine, where the o's? Where the SoundScan, where the shows?You's a pimp, bitch, where the track? Where the diamonds and where the Lac You say that you in hot pursuit But I ain't never seen you with a prostituteI got everythin I say Don't believe me, ask Lil' J On the West ask Ice-T Fuck good but my dick ain't freeSo hood, I used to whip the D Patron and wood when Im in the B Sweet Jones, Tony Snow, Percy Mack, Pimp C Bitch, I got a bunch of namesGettin head in the H.O.V. lane Gettin red, I let my nuts hang Wear a lot of red but it ain't no gang Chased by the Feds but it ain't no thangI guess they think I still sell cocaine 92 carrots in my chain Jumpin out a red-candy thinNever snitch, never tell Get caught up, go back to jail Before I tell them hoes shit Fuck the law, they can eat my dickThe main niggas that pop the trunk Go to the pen and get with them punks Then come home tryin to act tough When they was up there gettin fucked in the buttWhere's the G's? Where's the stars? Where's the whips? Where's the cars? Where's that cribs and where's the yards? Cause all I see is hypeWhere's the dough? Where's the cash? Where's the hoes? Where's the gash? Where's the blicks and where's the mash? Cause all I see is hypeToo many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I hear is dead hooks on the TV Bein real these days ain't easyToo many moots on the TV How many real crooks on the TV? All I see is bare poop on the TV Bein real these days ain't easy
Это интересно:Когда-то Dizzee знали под именем Dylan Mills. Безотцовщина и малолетний преступник, из той категории, что принято называть "трудными детьми". Помнится, в моей нормальной советской школе подобных не вписывающихся в рамки было принято списывать в специальные классы коррекции – дабы не разлагали личным примером неиспорченных деток. Как правило, подобные отроки ясно представляют, куда их занесет... продолжение
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