Главная
Видео клипы
Новости проекта
Личный кабинет
Тексты песен
Русские тексты песен
Анг тексты песен
Добавить текст
Табулатуры
Русские табы
Английские табы
Популярные
Наши проекты
Сервер электронной музыки
Форум
форумы



  Приходят
Нет содержания для этого блока!
  Тизеры
  Партнеры
Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes
Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes » L » Lord Finesse
Actual Facts - текст песни



Actual Facts


(feat. Sadat X, Extra P, Grand Puba)



[Sadat X]

When you say the name X, think synonymous wit fame

Only draw love off the mention of my name

I got a rhyme or two left then I'm a blend to the side

Go out on top like Jim Brown at his peak, I get wreck like ery week

Get my freak on, who dares to speak on

My armed forces recon, penatrating like decon

Guerilla tactics, stage theatrics

He's laying on the mattress

I'm hiking up the black dress

Finesse called on me to bless

I pulled the S off my varsity sweater, fine tuned to the letter

So let's make these stacks and max, relax, be waxed

The tracks receive faxs wit my picture in a cowboy hat

Now top that, yo, kid, top that

Kid got blown away at exactly where you're sitting

Just the other day but nobody's admitting

To the crime, I'm a MC not a MD

The best in history or maybe one of the top 3

Says myself, no diggedy



[Large Professor]

I be synonymous to king, fling niggaz to the mat

Like an acrobat, flipping the mental ass whipping

is served when I un-nerved another wack Jack imposter

Trying to fraud, you gots to get the fuk down wit the Lord

Finesse, whether you think you're pimp status or the best

Mad crazy or stupid, find a hot beat and loop it

For what it's worth, I've been a hip-hopper from birth

Try to disrespect and get your ass played up like a smurf

I'm running over the track, type of nigga to stack

One million, hit my moms, then fuk it, make a trillion

To start, showing the world who's the man wit the heart

That's about to blast off on these kids that's mad soft

Don't fuk wit Large Professor or you get your ass mauled

So ah, say no more, them niggaz that's the raw

Large Profess, Lord Finesse and Dat X for the tour

Grand Puba, who's probably coming back from Aruba

Wit the skill to buildI'm saying peace, you niggaz, chill



[Grand Puba]

Dig it, I be that nigga wit the creamy ass rhyme flow

My shit's so hot, I'll burn the ass of an Eskimo

I'm saying though, it be the Grand flipping flam

Giving love to my fans and you know this man

My composition leaves competition wishing

They could be in my postition cuz I did it wit no ass kissing

I'll be there like Michael Jackson and you don't stop

Until you get enuff and I'll be damn if my nose drop

I speak Actual facts on how I feel

Don't worry baby, wit Puba, there's no waiting just to exhale

I bag dimes like Jada, step through playa haters

Keep niggaz moving like a fuking escalator

Because it's poetry in motion

Pube keep it smooth like lotion, keeping MC's lost like Billy Ocean

Dig what I'm sayingI be a buck 85 on the weigh-in



[Lord Finesse]

It goes dip dip diving, check who you sizing

It's the wize civilizing, pockets stll rising

When I drop it, i'm futuristic like Fiber Optic

Didn't buy my album, you played yourself, should of copped it

Nuthin could beat my elite rhymes throwing your hands kid

That better be a peace sign

You don't want it, that's my steelo, how we on it

When we do our thing, niggaz spread the word like informants

But still advancing, skills enhancing

We got up on a shooken offbeat like white people dancing

We're too bugged, true thugs

Quick to get in that ass in ways that homo's wouldn't approve of

I'm not yapping, just rapping

Don't care if you're gold or platinum, don't think it can't happen

Whether wit a beat or acapella, it's the mic Rockafella

Strictly out for the mozarella

Fuk guns and toolies, we don't betray movies

It's yours truely that's smoothly, still sounds groovy

You can't do me or dis me, don't try to get wit me

My style is tricky like spelling Mississippi

Strictly, come and get me, if you can flip me

If this flow was whisley, I have you muthafukas tipsy

The ghetto type playas that caters

Famous to you spectators, the rhyme sayers, catch you later



Die Texte der Lieder. Тексты песен - На сайте свыше 500 текстов песен.

Дополнительно по данной категории

22.04.2009 - You Know What Im About - текст песни
22.04.2009 - Soul Plan - текст песни
22.04.2009 - Slave To My Soundwave - текст песни
22.04.2009 - Show em How we do Things - текст песни
22.04.2009 - Shorties Kaught In The System - текст песни
Нет комментариев. Почему бы Вам не оставить свой?
Вы не можете отправить комментарий анонимно, пожалуйста войдите или зарегистрируйтесь.
  Контакты
ICQ status
icq: 555444639
Тексты песен