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Получи текст песни Royal Flush, J-Mel, 151-Ron Bacardi, Rah - Game Over (Compilation)на свой мобильный!
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Предложение действительно для Российских операторов.
Intro:
Y`all and all better get right
That this time, while the time is good
Cuz they might not be no next time
Just creep, just creep
Just creep, just creep
[Royal Flush]
Yea my life is like a horror flick
But this movie guns and bricks, with tons of chicks
Ice on my neck and wrist
And run with a click, keep my two guns on my hip
And swingin` I spit, fighting was the `85 shit
Rims on my whip, Dreamcastin` ahead of my shit
Bitches know I`m rich
Look at they husbands and wanna switch
Follow my dick, tell they kids "Daddy ain`t shit"
Cut ya finger off and mail it back like Mark did to Rich
I body a snitch, Bumpy Johnson of this crack shit
Feds couldn`t tap this, Vietnam couldn`t match this
It`s murder, even when I fuck I hold a burner
Now think about, when I`m out of town a bodies heard of
I`m a grown man, I ain`t mad you don`t understand
I produce fire, ever since 12 started riot
Gold Ferrali tires, bandana bike riders
No slugs and outsiders, jail cell for the lifers
And ask ya dumb niggas a question
Who`s the nicest?
Chorus: Royal Flush
We creep, when we roll thru the streets, we creep
When we walk around with heat, we creep
Smash box in the jeep, we creep
[J-Mel]
Let`s keep the air tight, pluggin these mics, it`s rhyme fight
Me and my fam A-Alike like to clap on sight
Devious, mischevous, eye for an eye
Infamous and reppin this, who wanna fuck with this guy
Know we all talk live, and I`m certified wild
A Queens professional, niggas check the profile
6 foot, 210, won`t hesitate to get down
My desert spit round, quicker than shell hit ground
Need some help down, play ground, this shit ain`t a game
Try to maintain, spittin bars, outta the flames
And you know I do my things, stay one with the heat
On point, with my hood, keep my ear to the streets
And all these bitches love me, don`t give a fuck about beef
Ounce of reefer for the weak, lay back on the seat
What you see is what you get, don`t talk, represent
Never play bent, stay on my toes and make sense
Niggas no name like Prince, and claimin they run shit
J-Mel, done shit to get ya throat to wrist
Chorus 2X
[last line added: When we fuckin wit a freak, we creep]
[151-Ron Bacardi]
Yo, I stay to myself, conscience everyday with my health
Since it`s not a game, eyeballers play for the wealth
Kids get they ass whipped, when I`m unlacin my belt
You must respect my rhymes, cuz I say what I fealt
Master my words, like when I`m lightin passin the herb
Crashin you herb, 5 Mic put my fashion desert
Clarks & King, it`s a prejudice Bacardi thing
Recognize you a rat, when ya start to sing
Snitchin on hustlers, they flappin they lips on the brother
They not even worth hittin God, we spit on them suckas
Buggin my nerve, blame it on the drugs without slurp
My slang not gay, niggas can`t fuck with my word
My poetry silk, defeat who`s suppose to be ill
Vocals be real, I pulled ya card and told you the deal
[Rah Bump]
But now it`s R.A.H. Diggler, the pussy tickler
The one shot surrender, flip twist the bender
The king of this "creep" shit, it be no secret
Cuz me fluss and J-Mel fluss mill`s frequent
And spend it but stay bent with a clip
For these loose lips who sink ships and wanna talk shit
These niggas kill me, ya cats better feel me
Those stupid ass ways, get three holes like some looseleaf
You want beef? It`s useless, clip be nine ruthless
I kill slow like lugers, head on project roofes
I be the newest with the same cat that do this
The same nigga that told it the lugers and hit ya troopers
And jetted in the Suzus, niggas you wanna do who?
I clap two-two`s since `82, then hit ya tissues
You talk about that crack, But I been sellin that
Since the days of wayback, I flip the stack and got my dough back
Warrants down in VA, clackin dough but one day
We slave for the pay, that`s how we do it baby
That`s how I creep
Chorus 4X
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