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  • Текст песни Kobe Bryant feat.50 CENT - Thug Poet

    Просмотров: 13
    0 чел. считают текст песни верным
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    Тут находится текст песни Kobe Bryant feat.50 CENT - Thug Poet, а также перевод, видео и клип.

    [Kobe]
    Uh
    Uh huh
    You know what this is
    I'ma let 'em run around one more time
    I drop sumpin' on y'all
    It's like... it's like
    What's it like?

    My microphones and glock nines
    Black? I'm dipped in that
    The beats, my mash, jam you for the platinum you have
    Run it, the illest, watch me become it
    I'm here, and took it bowling, like straight to the wig
    Speak truth like kids, tell you what you don't know
    Kobe? Yeah, he's real with the flow
    Kick in the do' wavin' the flow-flow
    All you heard was stop, can't take the hits no more
    Ha, didn't know I had your block on SWAT?
    I'm CIA, y'all nuttin' but beat cops
    I rock like my ma's mean, name is cocaine
    Place you on my A-fiend list and pay you 'cane
    Think you can handle? Not get stripped when you rock?
    Think again, you find you lost your mind and judgement
    My confidence, springs from watching y'all fall
    Aw, forced to hustle, rap in charge
    I'ma hop in your brain, tell you whatchu thinkin'
    Yes, I am speakin', but I ain't writin'
    So cold, I put the ice in nicest
    You too broke to pay attention
    My style is priceless

    [Kobe] [Nas]
    If you say murder that means I'm a Thug Poet
    If I say my mind kills that means I'm a Thug Poet
    If I say that I'm a flock that means I'm a Thug Poet
    And when I lay it down, it makes me a Thug Poet

    [Broady Boy]
    Thank the dudes for the gangs and tanks of booze
    Shanks and twos, it's the gangstas, Langston Hughes
    My poems' about broken homes and Jesus peaces
    Dope is the Popes in Rome
    Poetical field, thug overtone, it's like what, yo?
    Bring it home, we both go gone
    Pre-cord thought flow in the sober zone
    My life style, chromosomes frost, hope to clone
    The crack lust, black dust, and the gat bust
    The claps, the lackluster, memoirs of the black hustler
    Condos, Beemers, bomb hoes, coke bags, toe tags, John Does
    Fiends skits them into the plane of day, as plain as day
    It's hard to reach, to smell God anyway
    Money, think backdrop payin' gray?
    Man, rubber-gripped on that rainy day
    Peep the way I came to play
    One aim at the game, reign and stay
    Every stain is straight from objective, insane
    'Ey just don't know, I'm two ticks from blowing a hole through music
    But I'm more than pimp-whoring him for the street wise
    You met the ren
    Cuz I open 'neath in the weed, hydrogen
    Jam my eyes to skin, guide some of our wisest men
    Until the skies of sin
    I pray for the day we see you rise again
    Uh

    [Nas] [Broady]
    Thug Poet Street analyst is this, the
    Thug Poet Hustlers bang out to
    Thug Poet Flows for your block, Hip-Hop
    Thug Poet
    Thug Poet

    [50 Cent]
    Aiyyo, everybody know 50 ain't know how to act
    I run up on cats with gats and aluminum bats
    Y'all got fat while we starved, it's my turn
    Shit, I done felt how a slug burned, I still won't learn
    Niggas in the 'hood a-tell ya "50 crazy"
    I had your moms screamin' "They done shot my baby"
    Son, I yap your shine, I clap the nine, I slap you
    I'm that one of them niggas you wanna fuck with
    I spit the shit that make ya keep listenin'
    Keep my wrists glistenin'
    I left niggas alone and they still think I'm dissin' 'em
    I'm on some new shit, S-Type baby blue shit
    Niggas talk behind my back but don't do shit
    I ain't looking for love, duke, I'm looking for respect
    I leave you with options, like die or hit the deck
    I'm a thug poet, you know what I came for, the dough
    Clap-clap, y'all niggas get the fuck on the floor, floor

    [Nas] (Echoes to fade)
    Thug Poet
    Kobe Bryant tabs

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