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作词 : Bone, DJ U Neek ... |
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Ooh killaOoh killa |
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If you're down to glide and slide on the |
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Clair, then let's ride |
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Tony Tone roll with |
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Bone on the dark side |
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But when you come just bring your guns witcha |
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If you're a busta, ******s gone have fun witcha |
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So ****** don't get me wrong, my ******s |
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Swang them thangs, bang some brains |
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Slangin' yayo, it all remains the same |
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Step and you'll catch some buck shots |
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Murder one on the |
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Clair my glock glock |
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Mo thugs, what's up ****** get dropped |
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Put 'em in the mud, pop and |
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I can't stop now |
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******, that |
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I thug wit kill |
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Pop to tha chest how does it feel and ****** we peel caps |
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Pap, fit to get your wig cracked back |
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Killin' I'm buckin' 'em down, |
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I wish ya would |
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Try to get some, redrum, ******, ****** don't test my hood |
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A first degree murderin' wig splitta, grave digga |
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Diggin' a ditch, puttin' a ****** |
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And them snitches in the pit, so don't ****** with |
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Them ******s off the 9, 9 |
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The foundation of ******s committin' a crime is murderin' every time |
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****** beware 'cuz here come the |
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Clair, mobbin' like them soldiers |
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Watch me fold ya for actin' like somebody never told ya |
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So off we go, to the bloody row, tryin' to blood some souls |
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With that nine shot, givin' props to the double glock |
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Pump, pump when |
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I let my shell down |
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Hit a nick nack, gimmee the goodies and ****** me dash |
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Ya reach for the gauge and mash, yell out 187 and blast |
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****** don't test nuts your luck's ****** |
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You feelin' up right for the bone yard, thuggin' off with the graveyard *******ft |
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Then comin' up blow your whole card, ****** |
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Scandalous ******s, dwellin' the |
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Clair be servin' them chop chop's |
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We rippin' them guts with buck shotz, pop pop |
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You better be ready for this thug style |
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Krayzie, Layzie, |
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Bizzy, Flesh with them wicked now |
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We straight up the glock glock, well don't get your wig's split now |
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East 99 follow me down the strip as we trip to the dark side |
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Betta grab your pop, ******s be trippin' and flippin' |
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As soon they get out, 187 you're caught in a murder |
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******s up to no good, uh oh, ****** no |
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They never could ****** with a thug ho |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Nuthin' but them killas, straight up thuggas |
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Rippin' bucks up bloody clothes |
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Gaugin' bloody watch this nickle trippin' shot and ****** 'em down |
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Buckin' them coppas down |
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Round after round after round |
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Bloody bodies badges spread out on the ground |
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Ain't no sound, just them demons screamin' rest in peace |
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I guess you got ta suffer |
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Ready to pip hollow point tip, got your wig split |
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They made your body once you hunt my victims on a mission |
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Flippin' livin' on a darker side creepin' on your homicide |
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Let my nuts and my gauge hang low now walk on by |
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Boogie Nikke's on a night ride |
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Thuggin' through my thuggish ass hood at night with my pipe |
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Thuggin down the double glock tryin' to get my serve on |
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Watchin' my back while six-five try to roll on |
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But one to the suckas head and two up in his body |
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Now peep my creep, |
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I eat the reefer smoke all up inside me |
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We jumpin' up rough from the hood |
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We bailin' we thuggin' we lookin' like crooks |
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Could tell we be fatal, ready to roll, know we willing and able |
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Rollin' with |
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Ruthless ******, betta check my label |
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Murda dem, never come again when the scandalous ******s set up |
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Bloody ****** trues be on my level |
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Eighty eight and ten five is the soldiers ghetto |
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****** don't take the wrong turn or you will enter the hood |
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And were spittin', so cover your dome |
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At a cut where the thugs and hustlas roam |
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Cleveland |
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Browns, Dogg |
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Pound hoes, it's on |
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Let's begin in the mix of a |
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Clair player |
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You're liable to get your wigs split and dumped in a ditch ******' |
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Cause them thugs, sendin' them slugs |
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Leavin' 'em off in the cut in a puddle of blood, say what |
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Don't make me go in my trench |
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****** ya got me bent |
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All ****** up, your luck's up, you gotta get sent |
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To your gravesite as |
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John Doe for ******' wit those |
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It's them thugs runnin' a muck on none but a slug all up in the territory |
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Never divide, go nationwide with the buck buck |
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So where you at where you at |
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I'm strapped and ready ta snap n yank a ******'s neck back |
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Puttin 'em |
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Koolaid hats in ta the graveyard |
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Pumped up betta get down, thugs'll be glad ta tear around |
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Foe somebody gets ******, ya still don't want some ****** |
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But what the mutha******, |
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I wanna wham ya wit a |
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Tec-9Now ****** press yo luck |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |
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Pop, pop givin' up shotz to tha double glock, glock |