RU: 0-9 А Б В Г Д Е Ж З И К Л М Н О П Р С Т У Ф Х Ц Ч Ш Щ Э Ю Я
EN: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
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(Caretta)
Ooooh, yeeah Presidential roll deep, and that`s for sho We got that M.O.B. Style, M.O.B. Style M.O.B. Style, M.O.B. Sty-e-yle (yeah) [Big Pokey] Keep quiet don`t talk, peep the fifth and chill Bumping bout something you heard, don`t know if it`s real You don`t like m but when you see me, you showing your grill Skinning and grinning for what, do you know what it is I got a face full of tears, cause the game done scarred me Niggas I lost, right now I ain`t the nigga to cross The bigger the balls, more of the money bigger the boss I wear the pants in the house, and I call the shots Keep my head to the sky, when my well run dry Treating my spits, some of y`all know what I`m talking about Some of y`all got it twisted around, think it`s a joke Cold fix, though we need some throw Everybody on dope, trying to cope with life Cause hold with Christ, cause that`s the one that wrote your life Sometimes I don`t sport my knife, I just wear my cross And if it`s on, then I`m for my routes [Hook: Caretta] All my life, I`ma beat these streets and stack my ends All about my do` ain`t got no friends All my life, still blinding hoes with glassy 4`s Presidential roll deep, and that`s fa sho all my life [Big Pokey] Throw your hands in the air, cause it`s hard but it`s fair Nobody to turn to, nobody don`t really care No hat with no hair, when it`s cold outside And you alone outside, a track with no square I`m trying to get, from A to Z But my ride be tripping, I don`t think this hoe gon make it to B I know what these niggas, waiting to see A nigga slip and fall it ain`t no love, I got a a clip for y`all This for my niggas on the wall, with a slash in they name Holding it down, I`m bout to leave a gash in the game Got a license for my strap, I ain`t stashing the thang On the block hot or cold, plus the nastiest rain What this cash game like, don`t earn it and burn it It`s discipline, dog you gotta stack it and turn it Burn your odors, punching the clock Earn your Rover 2K4, the game is over [Hook] [Big Pokey] I`m a M.O.B. nigga, and I love to ride I-6-3-3-50, let`s touch the sidewalk I walk it like I talk it, sometime I chill Sometime I let go inside talk it Some say, located in the dirt In the Tre, my K bullets hit niggas in they vertebrae Let em know, what the Southern bout It`s them V-Dozens parked, we holding the block Stuff my crotch, when I got in the Benz Three quarter mink coat, blocking the wind Hard Ward hollering, yo I got a twin Six in the morning, it`s on again Break back on the six tens, Superbowl Thinks he did, but I did cruise control Patience nigga, keep your grind Move more dope, than a Nino Brown They think we broke hoe, we gon shine M-O-B Style, low in the mind [Hook] (Caretta) Presidential baby, M.O.B. Style baby Yeah yeah
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