versuri Buckshot - Feel It versuri muzica Buckshot versurile melodiei Feel It

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Versuri Feel It




Feel It Lyrics [Swan] Yo, take a walk through the Terror Dome Instead of duckin little niggas, gettin live when they hear the chrome Where them dollars at? What, nigga holla back Is what they screamin, ice gleamin on Jumanji plaque Here to rat-a-tat-tat, on a regular Money exchangin, rearrangin on a cellular We do it up in a Benz or a hoop dog Smokin black, listenin to Snoop Dogg We them troops dog, that be runnin up, summin up ya money block Smack you all up in your funny top, guns cock In the drop top, headed to the chop shop Gettin ten grand, cuz the handle on your lock pop [Chorus 2X] Throw ya hands in the sky if you feelin this You can roll a bag of la if you feelin it You can bump it in ya ride, you can park up on the side You can bump to the vibe, if you feelin this [Buckshot] I'm high when I know I'm sweatin, plus I'm gettin Ready to set like Nino Brown at the wedding You a New Jack, this ain't a City What a pity, I fuck around, I have to give you fifty And if I take 49, and you're left with one See the one that jammed in ya ear, made ya deaf son Take ya breath son, nah, here's the oxygen Fuck it, bring the muthafuckin glocks again Throw ya hands up, when I spit six to tear ya man up Now you can't stand up, fucked your whole plan up Every time the gun jam up, the back slam up Upside ya head, give me my respects [Tone Cappone] Yo, there's nowhere to run, there's nowhere to hide Don't no one survive, the toast on my side, we both gonna die A nigga and his man tried to front, they both in disguise See before Jesus, the only man chosen was I And you can a dream or a nightmare, and I'm right there Standin over there, wit a bead and a mic there Puff there, Hype there, Russell there, Mike there All them niggas watch me embarrass you, right there From Brook-Nam to Queens, all the way to Yonkers and back Anywhere you go, you see the knights only attack Niggas flipped it on they back, enormin this tracks We bombin these cats, like U.S. was bombin Iraq [Chorus 2X] [Sweet Mellodye] A real hard head makes a real soft ass I thought I told these muthafuckas they ain't in our class Quick fast, I strip them from they stripes, snatch they thug patch Fuck that, I make 'em run and get they wife and come back You dumb black, bum raps is what y'all got It'll take a forest fire, just to make ya hot And I ain't got no time for them weak ass rhymes And then, when you spittin it's three and four at a time Come on now, I hate to be rude and shit But it's only a chosen few that can do this shit I thought you knew this shit, and ran through this shit But you still sample shit, and gettin sued and shit You know you makin me sick, like the flu and shit And stage ya monkey ass, leave the zoo and shit You see I rule wit shit, wit any bit I spit That rap crack, you phat, ain't all that and shit [Chorus 2X]





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