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Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes » S » Screwed Up Click
If It Aint Broke - текст песни



If It Ain't Broke


(feat. H.A.W.K., Lil' Keke, Mike D, Lil' O, Grace)



[talking:]

H.A.-dub, (go getter music baby)

(hard coat to the bone, slowed up

Showed up), feel it



[Hook:]

If it ain't broke, don't fix it

If it ain't drank don't mix it, never be a stray dog business

The flow, is unrealistic

The best unheard of, check my statistics



[H.A.W.K.:]

You'll see, I'm the go to guy

Before I die, H.A.W.K. must sell multi

I ain't gon lie, I want more then a piece of the pie

I'm ready to die like B.I., so now you see why

I'm one of the best, ahead of the rest

Having success, I guess you could say I'm blessed

North and Southwest, I'm the number one reason

There's a motherfucking buzz, in the Southern region

Your flow is seasoned, I leave other MC's grieving

I'm fire breathing, so gon 'head retire a heathen

Now hate it for weak, I leave ya for dead

You heard what I said, don't play with my bread

Or blood gon shed, I'll lay your head

Or I'll have ya, using wheels for legs enough said



[Grace:]

The flow is unreal, G-R possess skills

Untamed and off the chain, spit lyrics that can kill

Wreck tracks and stack bills, the boss among bosses

Undefeated for real, mo' wins and no losses

Purple potion mixed with poem, jump on down the road

Pen pimp a pad, plus it keep the two of mine thoed

Under rated overlooked, but daddy check out my stats

Gor the potentials to match, that show my ass on tracks

Greenstone game runner, let me do what I do

Jump in the booth and spit the real, bout P-A-T and the Screw

It's plain to see G-R a G, to the highest degree

And my mission is motivated, by the S.U.C.

Stand tall and go hard, makes it foes are fraud

Separate the real from fake, and put it down for the mob

Lace 'em up and tie your shoes, bitch I'm one the trues

Spit it hit it sick with it, blow a hoe nigga fuse



[Mike D:]

It's Boss Hogg Corleone, Miggity Mike D

Give me a second, and these hoes gon feel me

Ain't a Crip or Loc, but I ride with my folk

My nigga Den Den, got me in this position

That I'm sitting in, him and that MJ

So I'ma make power moves, nigga push play

S.U.C., we coming this summer

Leave it up to me, we be back to back Hummers

Harley bikes, matching trucks give a fuck

Y'all know, Corleone stay buck

I'm on my note, I swear to God nigga

Y'all ain't ready to go, dollar for dollar figga for figga

Bitch, I'm seven months free

Touching more money, than these niggaz on the streets

Y'all been out here bullshitting, playing hoe games

I'm about my do', better ask Duke mayn

We some out of town riders, we some out of town gliders

On I-10, with them birds inside her



[Lil' O:]

Ay I'm a fool with the tool, nigga ask about rap

Pick up this pen go to war like Iraq, bitch I'm back

Slugs hit your chest, and they come out your back

Man we shake niggaz down, make 'em come out they stacks

This is Texas, punk I make ya come out your Lac

Screwed Up Click, we pull the guns out for Pat

Rest in peace, go hard stay we make a mess of the weak

Left his head on the curb, and his chest in the street

This is mean and vicious, you seem suspicious

Everytime I cook my work, I always clean the dishes

I write rhymes for hustlers, with crack dreams and wishes

I don't really fuck with niggaz, always seen with bitches

The baddest hoes, Gucci shirts and Vesil jeans

The baddest clothes, boss among bosses how my status goes

See me at the table, watch me add this do'

So I can hit the boulo', and act bad on 4's

A hustler's hustler

A gangsta's gangsta, you a buster's buster

A snitch among snitches, Lil' O don't trust ya

With my hand behind my back, I'll just wink and they'll touch ya



[Lil' Keke:]

Young Don the Boss, and there's not one colder

It's S.U.C., me teflon soldier

It's A-1 yola, or it won't mix

And my price range change, if you coming for six

Live life like a star, cause it's meant for me

And my game orchestrated, like the symphony

It's a death wish, like the black Charles Bronson

Pass and push rocks, like the great Magic Johnson

The streets bred me, them crack rocks fed me

The weapon that I pack, is still black and deadly

Chit-chat, this and that while I'm gone

Back with big nuts, and my game face on

Your ass don't cash, I'ma murder your crew

That's the shit, that a Custom Made Gangsta do

Don Ke S.U.C., man we do it with endurance

I hope your fam, got the plot and the insurance



[talking:]

Do you hear this shit nigga

We ain't playing no games

We on your motherfucking ass mayn

This the take over bitch, (S.U.C. baby)



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