- 歌詞
- アルバムリスト
Fes Taylor
-
Notorious Thug Life
[Intro:Fes Taylor] Aiyo, who the king of the streets, man? Fes Taylor, Fes Taylor, you know on beats Two 4 War Entertainment, that's what's up Mighty Healthy Productions, nigga, that's what's up
[Fes Taylor] Aiyo, crime rule, cash come with the business Told you dudes, marijuana my wife, henny my mistress Go head, be a statistic, come on, be realistic It's me and you, who you think gon' air the biscuit My niggas on the Island, gon' feel this shit Riker's to Staten, most cutting and clapping Shaolin, picture me making us look bad Put them 1983 raps back in your bookbag All my crooks grab 44 mags, jumping out the jag With the 38 tags, you a fag, bag 58's, think like this shit is 52 states God damn, that's a whole lotta cake Take what you want, word up, don't settle for scraps I walk you to the safe, with the metal to your back, react We on top now, I can see ya'll haters somewhere down there Hoping I flop now, I got rounds, plus big hammers to put 'em in And you not that nigga, fuck what you could of been I'm a ill rapper, ill gun game, ill knuckle check Do niggas like ill, and buckle your neck
[Chorus: Fes Taylor] We got hood rats with gats in front of the spots Wolves on the block, ready to scrap with cops The hood heartless can't laugh when you shot Take the chain right off your neck, after you drop What happened to Big, plus happened to Pac Can happen to any one of us, think not Adrenaline pumping, don't think when you pop, cuz Either you defending yourself or get rocked Pop, pop, or get rocked Pop, pop, or get rocked Either you defending yourself or get rocked
[Fes Taylor] Park Hill streets taught me a lot, most niggas be fronting Usually, the ones talking a lot Killa Mac tracks bring out the best in my raps How could you suck at, what you a professional at See you over there, checking my stacks Appear out the pitch black, Fes Taylor got this, player sit back Never with joking, the same ol' comedy show You listen to my rhymes, try to copy my flow Never get it down pat, it's too complex What type of baller is you, still wearing Timex Fronting like it's Rolex, the great L.G. Profes Pussy niggas get plugged without a Kotex Spit til I got no breath, feeling like I just jogged a mile Live in the ghetto, it's hard to smile Screwface, you don't know me like that, why you playing me close Rest in peace, my little homey, be ghost I'm a rider, crews get stripped in stolen whips Talk shit, nigga end up with swollen lips Code of the street, don't snitch, clap your heat Animal in the studio, ram shack the beat Reved up heat, til the Lord comfort me, take my soul Splash off when the jake patrol Take gold like a leprechaun, roll like Decepticons Autobots of the game, wild like Lebanon Grew up in Vietnam, a/k/a Killah Hill First video we shoot, trynna spend a mil Fuck your label, I'm worth more than a record deal Hit distribution, son, fresh out the institution
[Chorus]
-
|