Burning Season - текст песни
Burning Season
Get the vests; get the vests
Word up grab your nines
Crazy head get out there God
Blast that nigga hard
It's all real over here
Killa Sin 9th Prince what
We don't give a fuck
Yo it's burning season
Y'all thugs is guiltly of high treason
Many of them bleeding
Some getting sent to the brain for no reason
On the streets niggas kill without a license, in Scarsville
It's all for real cause everything is real
Don't sleep on the average cat he's packing steel
Ayo nigga I'm on the cash rules
Wasted in my hand, half a hundred grand
Injure that pretender in the black land
Heard he be the crack man
Selling major jums (?) by the pager son
He the one sporting crazy tunes (?) lace 'em with your tongue
So here's the plan
Get the glock I got the doo-wop
Follow him for two blocks
And pop him if he do cock
Scat back better snap his nap back for that black
Pass the stacks to Fat Cat and find out where the crack's at
Rolling out make sure you keep your phone out
So I can reach your shit quick
Get his whip stripped and take my own route
For safety
Mistakes be for hasty
Many jakes who chase me
But never have the space to embrace me
A fool's game where all the rules change
I never move the same
But who's to blame
My nigga Buddha came with the ruger aim
Somebody screamed stop the violence
So this nigga had the silencer spitting black talons at any challenger
Yo, it was a ghetto Vietnam I tried to flee and harm
Me and Har my nigga Buddha caught about three in the arm
But one traveled to his abdomen
I grabbed him and embraced him
Had to see how bad this crab had laced him
Yo, rapidly bleeding started pleading for his life
Take care my seed and my wife
Make sure she's feeding him right
True indeed black I got your back
I hold it down on the real
May you rest in peace son
I see you on the ground
Many times I fought the urge to resort to crime
But I find my criminal mind complying with the villain kind
I'm feeling nines 'til they overflow
Going blow for blow with the rest
Cause them try and test the best
It's a slug fest
Round one sounds wrong I found one
Lurking in the back now clapped him with my pound son
The shells drop
Old ladies yell for the cops and shorty shot shit
Fell in the arms of his pops and didn't mean to
Why he had them running away
Should have taught him how to duck when he heard the fucking gun spray
I say a prayer for the kid, keep stepping
With my weapon cocked wetting up the block every section hot
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