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Celly Cel - Heat 4 Yo Azz

на свой мобильный!
Отправь SMS с текстом 55788-102-14048 на номер 5537.

Предложение действительно для Российских операторов.

[ VERSE 1 ]
One by one goes the bullets in the clip
Put it in yo gat, one in the chamber, now you`re ready to start shit
Heat comin from the barrel with a cloud of smoke
Dead bodies on the ground when these fools get loc`ed
It`s crazy in the street, pack some heat for a sucker
Mobbin through the town tryin to murder muthafuckas
211`s every day, liquor store and bank jobs
D boys gettin robbed, niggas get jacked for they mobbs
What`s a nigga to do, can`t survive without a gun
Snitches in the street, a nigga livin on the run
It`s fun but the pen is like smokin sess
Locked up on a 187`ll make any nigga stress
You can wear a vest, it won`t stop two to the head
Shot you in your face and now your ass is better off dead
Talkin shit`ll get you smoked quick
No need to save a hoe because they can`t live without dick
So I focus on the mail, Celly Cel
Ain`t no playa-hatin nigga, I got too much heat to sell
Fairy tales I never kick, it`s gangsterism in my veins
I kicked it with the O.G.`s pickin up on game:
Get your money on, fuck a bitch and get ghost
And keep one in the chamber for them fools that play you close
Them Sick Wid` It niggas keep makin the beat 4 yo azz
Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky nigga got some heat 4 yo azz

[ CHORUS (2X) ]
Some heat 4 yo azz
Some heat 4 yo azz
Them Sick Wid` It nigga got the beat 4 yo azz
Some heat 4 yo azz
Some heat 4 yo azz
That nigga Celly Cel got some heat 4 yo azz

[ VERSE 2 ]
Them Sick Wid` It niggas got the beat up comin with some heat
Them federal muthafuckas tryin to get a buck in the streets
Every day a nigga wanna test yo skill
And playa-hatas hate to see a nigga comin real
The H-i-double l-s-i-d-e
Down with the P.G., niggas don`t wanna see me
Act a fuckin fool, shootin up the city
Happy on the trigger like my nigga Frank Nitty
Let`s get into the C thang, Hillside slang
It`s a Hillside thang from the Hillside, mang
Smokin em like a chronic sack, rollin em in a zag
Hittin em with the funk and zippin em up in bodybags
Everywhere I go fools get to actin crazy
Wanna let they nuts hang, thinkin they can fade me
So I keep a life-long mug on my face
Rollin with some heat, sippin on a straight lace
A high speed chase, bank it in the side pocket
Po-po`s can`t fuck with the 350 rocket
Under my hood it`s all good when I`m on the gas
Checkin the rollers and the jackers that try to blast
Tricks of the trade already made, gangster got it down
Never panic under pressure when it`s goin down
Droppin a bomb, nigga, mobb beats 4 yo azz
Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky nigga got some heat 4 yo azz

[ CHORUS ]

[ VERSE 3 ]
Breakin em off somethin proper for the nine-fo`
In the do` is some of that heat 4 yo azz, hoe
Little hoes and the don`t-know`s need to know
A nigga that flow who ain`t comin out the gate slow
Pimpin and and pandlin, hoe handlin the whole bit
Killers move in silence, nigga, I don`t talk shit
I see them loudmouth niggas keep gettin dead
And the silent ones on 25 to life bids
You gotta pack some heat in the street, it`s goin down
If you ain`t down you better move to a square town
Niggas talk shit, drink and smoke weed up
Hit the county jail straight p.c.-ed up
You never know who really down till the funk jump
Same one that jump and the finger points at the punk
And your crew wasn`t down from the get-go
Don`t you know how that bitch-made nigga shit go?
Hollow points get to the point quicker
Cause talkin shit full of liquor thinkin that you`re sicker
Than the next nigga`ll get you full of bullet holes
Stayin on my toes and I just can`t let go
Of this mobb shit that I kick 4 yo azz
Ciggedy-Cel the figgedy-funky nigga got some heat 4 yo azz

[ CHORUS ]

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