Текст песни Junior M.A.F.I.A. - Player's Anthem

Conspiracy
Жанр: Hip-Hop / Underground Rap / East Coast Rap
Исполнитель: Junior M.A.F.I.A.
Альбом: Conspiracy
Длительность: 05:22
Рейтинг: 1845
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: SmokeDogg

Текст:

Niggaz bitches Uhh Niggaz Grab your dick if you love hip-hop Bitches Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa Gotcha, open off the words I say because "This type of shit it happens everyday" Check it out, uhh Now who smoke more blunts than a little bit? What are you a idiot? Listen to the lyrics I spit like M1's Got mad guns up in the cabin Cause Cease ain't the one for the dibbin and dabbin shit I make it happen, you got your ass caught All you saw was fire, from the Honda Passport Or the M.P., what if you see, then I miss ya I blow up spots like little sisters G'wan grit ya teeth, g'wan bite ya nails to the cuticles Like Murray, my killings, be the most beautiful Junior M.A.F.I.A. click, thick like Luke dancers Niggaz grab your gats, bitches take a glance at The little one, pullin over in the Land Rover Playin Big Willie style with a chaffeur, yaknahmean? Stack the green, read all between the lines A nigga act up, makes the bastard hard to find Niggaz Grab your dick if you love hip-hop Bitches Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa Gotcha, open off the words I say because "This type of shit it happens everyday" Niggaz Grab your dick if you love hip-hop Bitches Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa Gotcha, open off the words I say because "This type of shit it happens everyday" (How ya livin Biggie Smalls?) I'm surrounded by criminals Heavy rollers even the sheisty individuals Smokin skunk and mad Phillies Beatin down Billy Badasses, cracks in stacks and masses If robbery's a class, bet I pass it Shit get drastic, I'm buryin ya bastards Big Poppa never softenin Take you to the church, rob the preacher for the offerin Leave the fucker coughin up blood, and his pockets like rabbit ears Covered the wife, kleenex for the kid's tears Versace wear, Moschino on my bitches She whippin my ride, countin my one's, thinkin I'm richest Just the way players play, all day everyday I don't know what else to say I've been robbin niggaz since Run and them was singin 'Here We Go' Snatchin ropes at the Roxie homeboy you didn't know My flow, detrimental to your health Usually roll for self, I have son ridin shotgun My mind's my nine, my pen's my Mac-10 My target, all you wack niggaz who started rappin Junior M.A.F.I.A. steelo, niggaz know the half Caviar for breakfast, champagne bubble baths Runnin up in pretty bitches constantly The Smalls bitch, who the fuck it was supposed to be? Niggaz Grab your dick if you love hip-hop Bitches Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa Gotcha, open off the words I say because "This type of shit it happens everyday" Niggaz Grab your dick if you love hip-hop Bitches Rub your titties if you love Big Poppa Gotcha, open off the words I say because "This type of shit it happens everyday" I used to pack Macs in Cadillacs Now I pimp gats in the Ac's, watch my niggaz backs Nines in the stores, glocks in the bags Maxin mini markets, gettin money with the Arabs No question, confession, yes it's the lyrical Bitches squeeze your tits, niggaz grab your genitals Proteins and minerals, excluse subliminals Big Momma shoots the game to all you Willies and criminals I kick the rilli with my peeps all day 325'S roll by with the windows down halfway D-K-N-Y, oh my, I'm jiggy It's all about the Smalls and my fuckin nigga Biggie Bitches love the way I bust a rhyme Cause they all in line screamin one more time Niggaz, grab your dicks if you love hip-hop Bitches rub-a-dub in the back of the club, straight up
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