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(*talking*)
Uh, for the 2-theezie bout the cheezy Know me, naw I mean, hey Sensei, Mafia Mike, Whodi bout our paper Mobstyle for life, uh [Big Pokey] For my cream, I`ll take it to the extreme A glock and a three beam, plus a million dolla team Franchise like Ikeim, in these streets In studios split beats, with this verbal heat Dress code neat, from head to feet Jumping out the Benzo Jeep, with a petite freak Hit my point, sweep the flo` Call my Cuban connect, cop the snow I`m out the do` quick, with a block or mo` With a glock on my hip, that`ll stop the show Bout my do`, rolling I`m about my hoe She disrespect my ways, then she got to go When I`m paid it`s on, if I`m broke they gone Or I trick with a bitch, I choke my own And I put that, on the Stone When it come to my paper, nigga leave me alone [Hook - 2x] Please, get out of our way We don`t have time, to play We`re all about, our paper mayn [Chris Ward] I`m on a paper chase, gotta put it in these fakers face And if I get locked up, I`ma escape the place Cause there`s no way, I`m doing time in jail I`d rather be burning up, frying in hell As I cry and yell, I keep my ear to the streets Listen and learn to earn, I got peers to defeat While these scandalous hoes bitching, and foes snitching Friends turn into those wishing, my pockets on riches And I ain`t got time for chatting, cause niggas be ratting Acting fly like Aladdin, they softer than satin I`ma leave they ass flatting like a mat, with they blood splatting For playing games with me, as if I`m Madden From H-Town to Manhattan, my flows swarm like bees I spit lyrical cheese, on cd`s and lp`s And when it comes to stacking G`s, I`m about my pay But do like the song say, and get out the way [Hook - 2x] [Mafia Mike] Went from broke to cash, then first from last Or leave or now baby, no questions asked Gas up the cat, cause the Gator`s gon mash Get out of my way, before I hit that ass Don`t cause a scene, that`s gon make me slash Then hit the beat so hard, it`ll leave a gash And haters fall off, when they touch my stash My whole dress attire, is made with class Those, and ain`t trying to get us left in the past I ain`t trying to hot cap, or even flash I keep a pound of cash, stashed in my dash Full tank of gas, mean mug on my mask And those are like potatoes, they all get mashed Jackers irritate me, like a rash I gash that ass, ooh you little bitch ass nigga Come here hoe, I knock they chest in the grass [Hook - 2x] (*talking*) Uh man, too serious mean that Mobstyle for life, Mobstyle for life Ha what, 2000 Dope Game two-thee In your face, 3D baby done one mo` And another and another and another We`re dropping like bird shit Ain`t stopping, uh
Прямая ссылка на текст песни Get Out Our Way: http://musworld.ru/music/eng/101/1/21904.html » Big Pokey f Chris Ward, Mafia Mike - Get Out Our Way » Ramones - Crummy Stuff » Reed Lou - Hang On To Your Emotions » Rata Blanca - LГbranos Del Mal » Rickie Lee Jones - Ghost train » Running Wild - The Hussar » Robbie Williams - Angels » Radiohead - The Trickster » Radiohead - Pearly * » Rolling Stones - Indian Girl » Rolling Stones - Fancyman Blues » Reba Mcentire - A Poor Man`s Roses Or A Rich Man`s Gold » Rebecca Lynn Howard - Was It Hard To Be Together » Raised Fist - Diabolica » Ringo Starr - Stop And Take The Time To Smell The Rose » Rebaelliun - Flagellation Of Christ (The Revenge Of K » Robert Earl Keen - Snowin` On Raton » Roy Orbison - This Kind of Love » Rancid - Junkie Man » Radiohead - Prove Yourself » Robbie Williams - Life Thru A Lens |
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