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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 » T » T-bone
Follow T - текст песни



Follow T


You can catch me in the big body S-Class wit chrome spinners

Pulling up to the club wit a brim, ice and the chinchilla

Stacking that skrilla in a legal way

Rock stadiums from Nicaragua down to San Tropez, hey

And I ain’t even gotta curse in my raps

I keep it gully while I’m spitting this fire on hot tracks

My skills speak for themselves

I’m like a young LL back in the day when he was rocking the bells

The Sly Stallone of the microphone, I’m old school like Special K

Turbo and Ozone, rep for my people like I’m Che Guevara

Wit a derby and linen pants plus a guallavera

Oh, I’m so sick they sending ambulances to resuscitate the mic from my verbal thrashing

Cash advances, and top brand fashion

Guaranteed to rock the spot and keep the party peeps dancing


I had to switch up the flow for all the DJ’s spinning wax in the club

So when ya hear my joint yall better turn it up, louder

Suvelo, blast that music bro, respect the flow, ya listening to a music pro

The Burt Bacharach of rap is back ready to make ya move ya body And lean back like Joe Crack

Woah get ya hands in the air and wave them back and forth in the atmosphere

I know ya wondering if the rumors are true, believe the hype

I am the dopest rapper to come through wit brand new series of rap arts like kung fu

You don’t believe me, ya crew could get hung to

I run through anybody opposing

Don’t make me have to tell you again

I’m Gods chosen, like Peter, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John

Now everybody just bounce to this new hit song (Texts of songs ), What!


From sold out arenas to the silver screen

I move crowds and drop hits that make the people scream

Stack cream, get chauffeured in stretched out limousines

I’m a hot album, you just a ahhh 16

T-Bone is hard as it gets and I don’t fly first class, why?

I travel with chef’s on private jets

That’s why you mad and upset, homie

I paid my dues though, been ripping these mic’s since tape decks

So place your bets, I’m the best yet

Move the crowd and make ya bounce like bad checks

I got next, like the WNBA, defeating me is like blacks joining the KKK

It won’t happen, like hoods without guns clapping

Or hip-hop wit no DJ’s and MC’s rapping

It’s contradictory, none of you’ll ever get wit me

The dopest to ever breathe on a mic and claim victory



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

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