• А
  • Б
  • В
  • Г
  • Д
  • Е
  • Ж
  • З
  • И
  • К
  • Л
  • М
  • Н
  • О
  • П
  • Р
  • С
  • Т
  • У
  • Ф
  • Х
  • Ц
  • Ч
  • Ш
  • Э
  • Ю
  • Я
  • A
  • B
  • C
  • D
  • E
  • F
  • G
  • H
  • I
  • J
  • K
  • L
  • M
  • N
  • O
  • P
  • Q
  • R
  • S
  • T
  • U
  • V
  • W
  • X
  • Y
  • Z
  • #
  • Текст песни The Diplomats feat. Master P - Bout It Bout It..., Part III

    Просмотров: 2
    0 чел. считают текст песни верным
    0 чел. считают текст песни неверным
    Тут находится текст песни The Diplomats feat. Master P - Bout It Bout It..., Part III, а также перевод, видео и клип.

    Yo Cam, let's flip this thing on these niggas
    Ya'heard me
    (Let's do it my nigga) Well do your dizang
    (There's nothing, man, Up top, down south
    Right) oh yeah, oh yeah (We bout it)
    Aiight whoadie (yeah)
    Yo, this one here goes out to them boys
    That's bout it bout it, Master P, Cam'ron
    We taking this from the South to the East
    Uhhhhh

    I represent, where them killers at?
    145th and Broadway, you get your head cracked
    Get your legs snapped, arm-twist
    Ribs cracked
    Wig tapped, "play fair!", day care
    Kids napped
    You think you real? Well, my posse is crazier
    Your moms? Mobbing and raping her
    Saudi Arabia i'm '89 tho', Audi and Avias
    Beef in NO, I had to call No Limit up
    Baby MAC, baby Gat, shit to wake the baby up
    My baby boo, cop the X5: that's a baby truck
    Santana rolling big, Jimmy in the Caddy
    Dayton, Youngstown, Cleveland, Cincinnati
    In the double-O, I represent the C-O
    Please hoe, Harlem World, 40th: that's me yo
    Clips, 11 off, bricks, get 7 off
    Snow so white only thing
    Missin' is seven dwarfs

    Killa Cam, you know he bout it bout it
    Jim Jones, you know he bout it bout it
    Freekey Zeke, you know he bout it bout it
    Santana, that boy bout it bout it
    Harlem World, you know they bout it bout it
    Diplomats, you know they rowdy, rowdy
    145th and Broadway, them boys real
    You know them boys they don't play

    Killa ayo
    I'm bouncing through an ounce or two
    My crib look like the Fontainebleau
    A fountain too - no water
    Only pumping Mountain Dew
    Front on y'all little cats I was bound to do
    I made it where chickenheads
    Can't pronounce my shoes
    I got head, but need more mouth
    119th to the whorehouse
    Soon as the tour's out papi's rotten
    My block top and spot be popping
    I pop ack over some Oxycontin
    Cotton club and Roxy Robins
    Rubies and rocks we popping
    Booties, Uzis and Glocks'll stop 'em
    Battery on his head: copper-top him
    When I'm in the building dog
    You've got to watch him
    Got to spot him, Tre-8 a floor revolve him
    The DA, sergeant and coroner's problem, now
    Highs get 8 done, Dipset don't play none
    Jim Jones, Freekey, Killa and the Great One
    (Santana)

    Killa Cam, you know he bout it bout it
    Jim Jones, you know he bout it bout it
    Freekey Zeke, you know he bout it bout it
    Santana, that boy bout it bout it
    Harlem World, you know they bout it bout it
    Diplomats, you know they rowdy, rowdy
    145th and Broadway, them boys real
    You know them boys they don't play

    You know I claim
    (what you claim?) where them gangstas bang
    15th and Lenox, 9- tre
    They do they own thing
    In Uptown, up on 40 a phat Sean hit the block
    Dog, he move that water shit
    He like the network over wet work
    You come up short on that paper
    Get a wet shirt
    Then if you walking through Foster and Taft
    Flossing that cash them gangstas put
    The torch to your ass
    And I can't forget AK and Wagner
    My dogs straight crazy 'cause
    The AK'll blast ya
    One calling daddy Sheik and Q
    LB's and Sally beat your crew, now come on
    Shit and dope stacks
    Right in front the liquor store
    Hennessy, lil me
    Me you know they flipped the raw
    My Dipset, oh yeah they bout it
    16 shots up out the Glock, I come up out it

    I represent the South
    Now the world gon' feel us
    Worth $400 mil', still dump with gorillas
    I'm in the project posted up, like Toys 'R Us
    Retire my jersey - 65 for
    Every chicken I plucked
    Pass the purple stuff, whoadie
    It's time to get swerk up on the block, 1
    000 grams on Hogan and Kirk
    We in them t-shirts and doo rags
    P miller throwbacks when the No
    Limit boys in the house
    Haters get back, Hot One hold it down
    In foreign ghettoes, Big Boys, Uptown
    Rochablave and Erato c-Murder locked up
    But his name still ringing
    Me and Silk getting yoked, riding
    Hustling and slanging
    You know we bout it, I mean we rowdy!
    New Orleans to the ATL: you know
    They bout it bout it
    St louis, they keep it swanging
    LA to Las Vegas
    Them homies out there gang banging
    Oklahoma to Tennessee
    Them boys ain't playing
    Cause you know they B-O-U T
    Texas, Florida Detroit, Georgia
    Them boys dunn graduated from an
    8th up on to water-water
    Kansas bout it virginia rowdy!
    Illinois boys to Mississippi: bout it bout it
    New York, Arizona, the Bay Area
    The whole California! North Carolina
    South Carolina: throw dem bows
    Pennsylvania, Alabama: bout to let 'em know
    Missouri rowdy, Boston bout it!
    The New No Limit, Roc-A-Fella
    Is bout it bout it

    Потому что вы знаете, что они B-u t
    Техас, Флорида Детройт, Джорджия
    Их мальчики Данн окончил
    8-е место на водную воду
    Канзас об этом Вирджиния Роуди!
    Иллинойс, мальчики в Миссисипи: насчет этого
    Нью -Йорк, Аризона, район залива
    Вся Калифорния! Северная Каролина
    Южная Каролина: бросить демо
    Пенсильвания, Алабама: поступил им знать
    Миссури Роуди, Бостон, будь это!
    Новый лимит, Roc-a-Fella
    Об этом насчет

    Опрос: Верный ли текст песни?
    ДаНет