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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 » S » South Park Mexican
Revenge - текст песни



Revenge


My homie called me in the morning from a hospital bed


He got holes in his body from a glock full of lead


He said, three motherfuckers that his lady knows


Tried to jack his ass for his 84's


Now in a Ben Taub sick bed, my homie lays up


He got sprayed up, cuz he wouldn't raise


Caught three of the seven of the shots that rang


Them folks sayin' that he'd never walk the same


It sounds like a job for the uzi gat


And where the fuck did your bitch say these fools be at?


For a real long time, we been the best of friends


And I'll be damned if a nigga don't get revenge


I feel anger, that I'm no stranger to


Bustin' slugs in they guts just a thang to do


Why they pray for you, come and spray they crew


Got love for my homies, I thought you knew?


He said "Los don't sweat it, let this shit alone,"


but with these punk motherfuckers I must pick a bone


Now will it be the cranium or the chest plate?


Necks break back, snap, put him in checkmate


Lead take me to vengeance, send this


Ripping through tendons I end this


Because you bleed inside and it hurts to cough


I can't take no advice I gots to break them off








Cuz my revenge, it tastes so sweet, I gotta do,


What my friends, would do for me,


You muthafuckas gotta beg,


Y'all askin' for action,


Eat a fuckin' K,


I'm blastin' some asses


Cuz my revenge, it tastes so sweet, I gotta do,


What my friends, would do for me,


You muthafuckas gotta beg,


Y'all askin' for action,


Eat a fuckin' K,


I'm blastin' some asses








My niggas check me, I'm thinkin' of a master plan


I'm straight up blastin' glocks, them fuckin' bastards ran


I'm steady missin' all my homies that done bit the dust


Got revenge cuz them bitches wasn't shit to us


Now what the fuck can I accomplish?


And when I'm dead, will I find myself on God's list?


Every night I give, thanks I wouldn't die today


Turnin' cane into crack and my mic away


We dealin' cuz we feelin' that the, pay's right


Hopin' Mama never see me at my, grave site


No daylight, play night cautiously


Could be death, or my freedom what it's costin' me


Lost in dear life my wife be that Mary Jane


And my streets got me strollin' blueberry Lane


Very same song (Texts of songs ) sung in the South


From the mouth of a hustler, never have I trusted a


Trick or a hoe or a dope fiend either


Cuz they smoke like a beaver buildin' dams on the river


Live a, life of a "G' til' the d - a - y


Hittin' switches on the freeway high


Don't reply cuz me don't give a fuck


What you hoes got to say about me Hillwood funk














Stop short in your tracks


Gats got the place surrounded


Sounded two warning shots, fuck on up and you'll be grounded


Pounded bodies with a bunch of twelve gauges


Now her face is too straight in the fuckin' dog cages


Pages of my book, turn like the wind blows


On the paper of a crook, muthafuck them hoes


Hittin' flows as a hustler, rose as a "G"


Saves his flows to big 8, now he scores half a ki


Some say in his head he got insanity inside


But all it really be is mathematically inclined


Look behind, you might find others takin' over


Rookies movin' cookies, they whipped in baking soda


Baby learn the fuckin' rules, my cheese, is SOLID AS A ROCK


With my homies and we BALLIN' WITH A GLOCK


Tenderoni phony fraud motherfuckers


Best to get out the game, 'fore you die motherfuckers


Bustas trust us, but us hustlas trust no one


You can sure run with no gun


That be a nigga slow guns


So roll one of them sweets


Chug-a-lug on the eightball


And see where this motherfuckin life is gonna take y'all


And haters might fall



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