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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 » The Game
Krush Groove - текст песни



Krush Groove


We on our third song (Texts of songs ), we on our third song (Texts of songs ), heyyeyy





You understand it, I'm official with mine; I'm double-clutchin


on the fo'-wheel, pushin quarters like niggaz doin dope deals


Fo' cut 50 like a verse and a half


I cut the brick and now we countin the math, we 'bout that birdplay


My crew's committed, you dudes gon' get it


Have a seat you through when I'm finished, my troopers is fitted


Got 'em posted out in Brooklyn, Hollis Queens to the Bridge


We in the studio the Figgaro done did it again


We got factors out in the ditch where they smackin a bitch


I got homies out in the Bronx where they bustin at cops


It ain't no game with the underground, came from the underground


Pushin a hundred thousand, we out the trunk, never browsin


JT, another boss from the Bay


And rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre, what'chu say nigga?


JT, another boss from the Bay


And rest in peace to my boy Mac Dre, motherfucker








Hey yo it seem to me like e'rybody got they own truth


Believe me I'm in them sheets like phonebooths


I play the game I was born to score


But I'm a lil' too cute for them corner stores


A little too, known, to stand on the block


And a lil' too eager to sit in the spot


Mami, I'm from the Eastside, yup yes that side


Heads fly if I open ya chest that wide


Gimme a bad vibe end up on ya backside


Or you can get your back and side splatted in back of ya ride


And I can make it happen, if I don't make it rappin


This lump of Satan I'm packin thrash 'em with a major passion


I slash ya face and fracture you flashin in the latest fashion


And have you dashin from Manhattan all the way to Aspen


Your shit is whack, heard your tape and had to take an aspirin


Step ya game up














Listen, before I get up in the mornin I ask the Lord for strength


Tryin to get my niggaz out the hood, you know how the forces get


It's like the devil got a hold of my neck


And I'm gettin this change runnin 'round reppin my set


Momma used to look at me funny; she could tell her baby boy changed


Must be out there gettin some money


But it's a price for everything, you know how the game go


For them birds niggaz'll cock back the calico


Now you introduced to the beef, what'chu gon' do now?


Bitch up, skid in your crib, or pull them tools out?


A lot of niggaz is real, a lot of niggaz is fake


A lot of niggaz shake your hand and shake hands with Jake








Fuck what'chu heard, I startled your brain


I hit the spot like a {?} in ballers and jeans


On some eighty-eight shit, more "Raw" than Kane


It's not my fault she looked at me - you better talk to your dame


That's just, part of the game and you got served


Who got nerve cause Lethal hard like Tupac words


And, why y'all Chucks always actin like tough guys


You must be trippin or you slippin on mudslides


And in the hood you see it's different from one time


What's your bloodline, play the strip to the sunshine


And I don't even know why I'm wastin my breath


I oughta be like Makaveli and be fakin my death


I keep that good shit it's tastin so fresh


And all y'all sloppy Joe niggaz yo y'all makin a mess


We on the way to yo' nap, so put your tapes in the deck


And spit in a hundred bars straight without breakin a sweat



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