| |
 |
MP3 Klingeltöne für Dein Handy
|
|
Interpret:
Ghostface Killah
|
| Iron Maiden
|
Intro: [from the motion picture "Fresh"]
[What you doin on our turf, punk? Got a message for Smokey. Give it. You Smokey, man? Give it! If you aint Smokey, it aint yo motherfuckin message Motherfucker, I said gimme the message! Its from Willie, in the slam. Nigga, you been busted? Yeah, the man picked me up. Well, I aint got no fuckin time to play witchu! Now gimme the message. Willies in Warwick, doin 1-3. Told me to tell yall motherfuckers to keep cool. He be out one way or another. Quick. Maybe I could stick around for awhile. Naw, thats out, man. You know? What can we, The Lords, do with a punk like you? Kiss my ass, motherfucker! (Burn em) Just me and you, motherfucker, just me and you. I put trademarks around your fuckin eye!]
[Portrayin, wont be payin. Uh huh, Uh huh] [Yeah, no doubt, no doubt, this Wally champ cat. Yeah, its on this one]
Raekwon:
Yo, Gambino niggas who swipe theirs Deluxe rap cavaliers Midgets who steal beers, give em theirs
Chorus: Raekwon
Sit back jollyin My team be gamin like three card Rolly an Drug Somalians pollyin
[Verse One: Raekwon] Many raps they crochetin Ay yo Iron, these niggas portrayin But havent been payin For real, slide on these niggas like flesh fear Caesar fade style, usually tough grenade Throw a blade, fuck gettin laid Guzzle this shit like Gatorade Big-dick Wallies have never half-suede Connectin with the hot style is done Light up a chalis I run with nuttin but the wildest, foulest Come on now, long-dick style Niggas on the hit out, ay yo Iron bite my shit out Eventually, bust a rap gun mentally Been doin this century kid, just meant to be Get on your knees and bless me with a gem in the Caribbean Skiin off by P.M. Snatch Canadian cream with Scandinavians Fellatium style, play it like thirty-two Arabians The greatest lesson is dont owe, you might get stole on When I go bury me wit Valow on
[They come to me, and understand, just let me get mines first. Then after I get mines, yall can do what yall wanna do. Fuck em up bad]
[Verse Two: Ghostface] Sho nuff, hit the bank and thrust Cool Nauticas Jamie Summer got trained on the tour bus We upgrade, swallow raw eggs, read the label Hittin white-label, left the Winnebago unstable Smooth sailin, walked in, my earth started kneelin Started stealin, Im too ill, see were bellin at the parlay Kicked up, mack, max motion Michael Bolton magazine call, Im too potent Louisville mix pain kill rap, Fuck benadryl The violin in Knowledge God sounded ill Tremendously obnoxious, no blotches My telephone watchll leave bartenders topless Dead on the prosecutor, smacked a juror Me and my girlll run like Luke and Laura We sit back on Malayan islands Sippin mix drinks out of boat coconut bowls, we whylin
(Break) Raekwon:
Sit back jollyin, Uh huh, Uh huh Uh huh, Uh huh, Sit back jollyin Uh huh, Uh huh, Uh huh, Uh huh
(Chorus) x 2
Sit back
[Verse Three: Cappadonna] Deep meditation sound orientated, war the blizzard Rap para-medical the wizard Cappadonna, never caterin to none My microphone and three verse weigh a ton of slaughter You oughta five thousand back across the water My laboratory story keep me flowin with the glory Acapella or deep dirty instrumental I could blow the sky like the stormy wind blew One gallon of whylin, Park Hill profilin I cut your face up rough fifty sure while youre smilin For violatin my position, I leave you smoked like a crackhead on a mission Two tokes of mic dope, one stroke of elegance Rated like the movie graphic told intelligence Person to person, itd be hard for you to take a trophy You better off to get somebody out to try to smoke me Cause Im P-L-O T-K-O every day Dancehall General, Party Fanatic Colonel Cappadonna sona old school just go infernal Veteran for rappin with the new set of rule of hard rappin Ninety-six jive, I keep the live crowd clappin When I bow, all praises due to Staten Isle I spark the mic and Shaolin spark the methtical Every evenin, I have a by myself meetin Thinkin whos gonna be the next to catch a beatin From my mental slangin, bitchin rap twist the point of warfare I brutalize, all competition catch ill hair Chance him, thats what they said, threw up a ransom I jacked it, stripped the beat naked and packed it Gimme my rewards
[The way I, the way I wanna get em. I want em gotten. I want em layin out. I want em gotten. Cause niggas need to be gotten. He need to be taken off of here. Thats right.]
|
Eingetragen |
28.Sep.2002 22:09:35 |
Letzer Aufruf |
10.Jun.2004 04:06:46 |
Besucher |
125 |
|
|
|
|