Текст песни Mobb Deep - Dirty New Yorker D

Текст:

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Uh, uh, uh Yeah... Baby mama let's roll, here we go, Cheerio, cereal Killa with the flow and the blow and the dro' And the gun go ring, hit 'em all in a row AK-47, .40-glock, .44, let 'em know from the door How it go, it's not a joke, there's gon' be a homicide I'ma ride, I'ma rep me a nigga up in the box and send 'em to his folks, his bloods, his kin The drama it don't end, bust a gun Bust a nigga's face open with the hand Tell 'em go tell a friend, tell a cop, tell the FEDS I don't give a mothafuck, you niggas in the Ps I'ma let the world see you, you're a bitch, you're a snitch I'ma Mobb Deep gangsta, Infamous soldier If you got a cold heart then my shit just froze over Range Rover, Chevy Suburban, the bullet proof trim The windows on the crib, bullet proof them You're fucking with a Dirty New Yorker Quens in this bitch fall back or get roped up You're fucking with a Dirty New Yorker Quens mothafucka, move and get smoked up Ay' baby mama let's slide on the floor I'ma pro with the flow I can go on forever tell me when to stop yo My first album Head Nigga in Charge it went gold With my next shit I'm just trying to seel a lil mo' I won't be mad if it's less, I'm still filthy rich We going on a permanent tour and never coming back I'ma vet not a pet, you gon' see when I flip Niggas trip fall on their face and bust their own shit Come for me you gon' run up to a wall of cement Certain niggas not to be touched and I'm one of 'em Pop to bub me, crack open the Goose and the Gin You gon' get real fucked up in memory of them I'ma cop some more ice, houses and whips Why they mad? 'Cause they can't spend money like this 180 on the wrist, 190 on the six-speed Porsche with the turbo and shatter proof tenth

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