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Получи текст песни Erick Sermon f 1129, Redman - Future Thugна свой мобильный!
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[Verse One: Erick Sermon]
Aiyyo everybody hands up
Run yo` bling bling, nigga boy stand up
It`s E-Dub, whassup?
Yeah I`m bouncin, large amounts of cash we countin
That stand tall like mountains
To bring the drama, it takes a second man (that`s it)
One wrong move, "Bring the Pain" like Method Man
It`s your boy
Damnit, it`s the Bandit, new Hummer in transit
Twenty-seven inches come standard (YO!)
This my people, whether drivin the Benz, the Pinto
Or the Regal, the Range Rover, the Beatle (uh)
I`m in New York now but I represent the SWATS of A-Town
When I touch down amid grounds
Me and L-Dub and Redman, that`s it mo`fuckah
You heard what I said man, that`s real (what the deal)
It`s E-Dub, pronounce it right
Eyes green like Kryptonite, so good night!
[Chorus]
What y`all want? Y`all want this?
We give it to ya, we future thugs
We up in yo` crib like, we up in yo` club like
We up in yo` hood like, we future thugs
[Verse Two: 11/29]
Where niggaz be thinkin the, Cadillac`s on 23`s
Bitch bring with the DVD`s, old school bucket seats
South Memphis to College P, Decatur to N.Y.C.
Top droppin that Benz `til it, came with the leather seat
Back up off my whip or I jump out and cause a tragedy
St. Louis to Florida, from N.Y. to Tennessee
Them boys ride 20`s, them niggaz from the hay
Them boys flickin Bentleys, Benz, Lex and Escalades
Them boys ride clean, twist and turnin in yo` face
With that chameleon paint, fresh as {?}
I pull up in a fo`-fo`-two with E-Dub
With a convertible top on the Chevy, we like what
Def Squad in this piece, you want it we give it to ya
You don`t want no trouble with me, I might do ya
And tear the club up with E-Dub and that nigga {*bang*}
Better respect my gangsta I stay with two Rugers
[Chorus]
[Verse Three: Redman]
Yo, I ain`t a thug but I do thug things nigga so hold me down
Forty round, caliber spitter, that`s how the shorty crown
Run with gordy hounds for 40 miles then ignore me now
Duck +Motowns+ than Barry Gordy found, sorry clown!
Super future thug, 12 shoe shoot you through the rug
James Bond, watch on my arm, tellin me who to truck
My God`s my gun, don`t need him since cerebreal cock
Beat him size ammo three to five mammal we the Gods
that`ll shit on your turf, that`ll get in your skirt
I heard Alicia, so my dick give what a woman is worth
I make them niggaz blow... then hide `em inside `em
My noggin is strange when them dogs is ridin
Cause I`ma, cheap fucker, street usher, eat supper with
pack of wolves that act a fool, blood on they upper lip
Need a nigga, I`m that nigga to call, nigga to draw
chainsaws to the brawl, cuttin ya ligaments off
[Chorus]
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