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MP3 Klingeltöne für Dein Handy
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Interpret:
Ghostface Killah
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| K.B. Ridin
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[Intro: Ghostface Killah (RZA) %7BMethod Man%7D] Word (These mothafuckin niggaz, man) Yeah, I hear that, you got that shit, right? (Yeah, I got it) Lemme hear it (Ima two-way Sunn back right now Next time she show up right on time for this shit) Word, no doubt (Better stop smokin on that shit) Fuck that, hey, dont do it with him (Whatever) Yo yeah, lemme get that mothafuckas sayin on this, nigga (Yeah, niggaz be buggin in here Nigga dont speak no fuckin English, word?) You get me everything? (I got you a cheese joint) %7BDiamond buscuits, mothafucka!%7D
[Break: Method Man (RZA) %7BProdical%7D] Now lets see, we dont get down like that See, he holds his own, haha, he holds his own Haha, he holds his own (Bank!) (John Blizzy) %7BStraight like that%7D He holdin twenty on this (Ghost Deini) %7BUh-huh! Yeah!%7D (ShaCronz) %7BThe invincible, baby) Bad boys (Suga Bang) %7BIts like that!%7D (D-Digi!)
[Method Man (Prodical)] Spontaneous combustion got niggaz lustin Fuckin with this head bustin track spanker Decaffinator, crab sinker, twenty-five Tryin to live to see my forty acher, before I die Immaculate conceptions like loaded weapons Shootin up ya rap session in mere seconds (Bluh! Bluh!) Ya whole style is undressin Try to hide yaself behind the R%26B section And got spotted, fuckin with them fake artists who make garbage Now ya like a human target with no direction And no protection, rap nigga assed out and no question Dead and buried, we holdin like the military Fuck Dog Shit, hide-out beats and hot cherries On virgin mics, style very cri-Tical By any means necessary, mad lyr-ical The Ghostrider, want vengeance on you style biters Ya whole sect got you gassed til I sparked the lighter And burnt that ass like Dhalsim in Street Fighter I play the shadows, scopin out you lime lighters and Desperados
[Chorus: Suga Bang Bang (RZA) %7BProdical%7D] Killa Beez is ridin East to West, baby See our twenties spinnin on our trucks, baby Diamonds, Cubans hangin from our neck, baby Come on, come on
[Interlude: RZA %7BProdical%7D] %7BBaby cuz Its Not a Game%7D You see them mothafuckin twenty-inch chromes spinnin? %7BRocked out, baby, ice hangin%7D
[Ghostface Killah (RZA)] Bailed out from drugs, almost retired from bubblin Hammers was the guns under the rug, lift off my publishin Jet to Miami, I chuggle-lug the beat Fiends beepin me, I erase and delete (Come on) Surrounded my palm trees and sound-proof condos Tryin out Spanish foods, Robertos bangin bongos Do whatever, crackin down weather, it means nice Walkin down the strip, these fat niggaz broke the ice Drive it in a host, the trucks, the gates wide open A square box fell out, Im hopin it be coke and I snatched it, dipped into a parkin lot and wrapped it See diamonds, pearls, rubies, gems, covered with acid Heavens to mega-troid, infantsll know Im paranoid What she goes through, Im on a next flight to St. Croix Sneaker boy and Genius, I heard he struck oil Him and Masta Killa own Fox and mad loyal
[Chorus - last two lines only] Diamonds, Cubans hangin from our neck, baby Come on, come on
[Interlude: RZA %7BProdical%7D] %7BThe finest, baby, the finest%7D (You see them Linx hangin?)
[ShaCronz] Yo, yo You know I rarely fight, I keep heat plus Im very nice I run with two-eighties on me like Jerry Rice I fuck with many birds, not the canary type Ive seen a lot of happy days and scary nights My click hotter than fish grease, kids be diss-free Most of these labels cant handle this heat I love new twat, scrap hos on a few blocks When my hate grows I let the tools pop A lot of these rap niggaz be fast to plea Raw cook up, Got the Hook-Up like Master P F.G., we dont talk, nigga, fast to squeeze Walk up and let a hundred shots crash ya V The first to pull out, the first to body somethin I got all the heat all the shorties in ya lobby pumpin Them dudes you standin with probably frontin Killa Bee Gang got that shit that keep ya hottie jumpin What?
[Chorus 2X]
[Interlude: RZA %7BProdical%7D] %7BStraight like that, baby, its nuttin less, K.B., baby Dont forget it, C.C.F.%7D You see the shits spinnin? Come on, nigga! %7BClamp on, baby%7D Come on! Yo, yo, tell them niggaz, son What? What? You see the shits spinnin? %7BYeah%7D Shit hangin, son, they hangin %7BBetter catch it%7D Come on! Come on!
[Outro: Prodical (RZA)] Straight gangsta (Yo, youve just been experiencin Wu-Tang Killa Beez - The Sting) Explosive, baby, comin at you (Yall mothafuckas know.. The next chambers the mothafuckin weather) Look out for the Stingers, baby
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Eingetragen |
29.Sep.2002 13:09:17 |
Letzer Aufruf |
01.Jan.1970 01:01:00 |
Besucher |
119 |
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