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  • Текст песни Busy Bee - Running Thangs

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    Тут находится текст песни Busy Bee - Running Thangs, а также перевод, видео и клип.

    I was walkin down a dark way, trouble had to find me
    The street corner shark was comin up behind me
    I grabbed my pistol, punk started to whistle
    Like you got a missile, boy, you know this'll
    Be fun, I put my hand up on my gun
    He tried to cut me on run, huh - but yo, I'm not the one
    Flexin up the trigger finger, a dead ringer
    I'm not a singer, and life just don't linger
    But I looked the boy in his eyes, and he almost cried
    But before he died

    Murder
    In the first degree
    That's what you get when you're messin with the Busy Bee
    Yeah, murder
    You better write your will
    I'm Busy Bee, I pay the bills, dressed to kill
    Murder

    Murder style
    Murder style

    A black guy on Howard Beach
    A boy lay bleedin from his head to his feet
    The police writin up his report
    Drinkin coffee from a cup and doin what he was taught
    At the academy, mistaken identity
    The boy was a friend of me, guess he wasn't meant to be
    Remedies, diagnosis or cure or a conclusion
    There's no confusion, it's just winnin and losin
    Hey, there's no pity or remorse
    There's no pause, cause what's lost is lost
    Huh, so throw his body in the bag
    And they'll say that he was high on crack
    But it's

    Murder
    In the first degree
    That's what you get when you're messin with society
    Yeah, murder
    You better write your will
    I'm Busy Bee, I pay my bills, dressed to kill
    I'm talkin bout
    Murder

    Girl named Patty drived a black Caddy
    The girl was so fine, I wanted to kiss her daddy
    Bring her mama out to dinner
    Bring Patty to the race track, then bring home a winner
    Buy her earrings and medaillons
    I got juice by the gallon
    But she got legs like a stallion
    Plus to be a cutie's her duty
    She got brains plus beauty
    Don't even think about the booty
    Bumpers, and she got no breaks
    So when she walks her shimmy'll shake
    Like ??? from the earthquake, on the eaves she would drop
    She'd go on the horn and say I can't stop
    The way she move, the way she pose
    She knows how to put on - and even take off clothes
    I never leave her, I never desert her
    She so bad - the bitch was murder

    Yeah
    Dance, sucker
    This is murder

    A pretty good-lookin, fine young lady
    Drivin a Mercedes, soon to have a baby
    Three months gone, she's treated like a pawn
    And all the joyridin good times - all that was gone
    Her world changed, she was feelin strange
    Things was runnin through her brain, cravin, hunger pains
    And her friend, he stopped goin steady
    Then reality hit her - she realized she ain't ready
    So now she must proceed with caution
    And sneak to the clinic and gettin an abortion
    They're both foetal, the less is too evil
    It' still raw, but still legal

    It's murder
    In the first degree
    That's what you get when you're messin with society
    Yeah, it's murder
    You better write your will
    I'm Busy Bee, I pay the bills, I'm dressed to kill

    In Bed-Stuy
    It's do or die
    It's no why
    Why's a crooked letter
    Yes, let's go get her
    You better met my beretta
    (Why?) The song set her
    Don't do the crime

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