Текст песни ONYX - Onyx Is Back

Текст:

Yeah, aha, yah Chorus: Onyx is back, and they can never, ever, ever be wack (4x) [Fredro Starr] Yo America is under attack, yo Onyx is back Took a team out the hood, the whole crew got phat Allot of hate cos I took Hollywood on my back Keep it crully, grimy, no positive rap You can tell by the way I got out the projects You still here, your thuggin with the best Don't worry if I got nines I blast text You should worry if ya got shine I snatch next War for real you don't want war for real If it's real make ya timps up step up and feel Cos real killas do real things, but not you You americé nigga who wanna play nigga? Take a stray nigga, get out ma way nigga The ballheads back nobody wurse then them Im a madface nigga in a worstagrim Im a maceface nigga im n a ?? ?? Chorus [Sonee] Who that, sonee, hell yeah! Bangin Brooklyn to Brussels to bell air Shortys poppin their brands Hoppin out cars, got rappers nervous, Scared of dropping their bars Take ya though, break you, break ya ho Nigga aint a greater flow I make ya new, Money better play it low Take it slow, Make the foo Keep ya face aint a moo Im like mixin liquor Im bound to come up on niggaz And highjack the bank abduct ya ditches Cant fly, got a nice plan tuck to fit ya I'll be lost a fare kid paid bucks to bitch ya So, no, wer stopping wer trempin yo scene Im mixin, yellow with blue, I gotta get green Either yo with us, or not, not in between You will show us the money when I show you the bean Chorus [Sticky Fingaz] Well it's the S-T crocked I-C-K-Y Got ma ?? ?? doin for sticks back in B, K and Y Im livin all in 5 barrels, so im rappin wild The thuggest thug in the club, who else plays high? Been in the game for years, it made me a criminal Your small time, ma rims is just as big as you Iv never had a 9 to 5, I had a 9 that hit people that got off there 5 From thosele shiny things, that cut trough glass Don't even speak to me, this is about sex and cash I like ma cars, girls and clothes only for ma models I beat you between yo head with thousand dollar arms bottle Cant even with ice, I carry to much heat The combination always leaves somebody wetting the street Im start sellin hope trough ma arms of weed Cos im broke only got threehundred gram on the bank We back, bringing you that filth from filth Let me stop talking before I criminate myself Chorus

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