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Harlem World
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Pointing Fingers
作詞:Stason Betha, Damon Blackmon, Ameen Burns, Michael Foster, Chauncey Hawkins, Andre Hudson, Piere Jones
Yo, only got twelve bars so let me cut to the chase Fuckin' with Stase, I caught a buck in the face I got the set me up, everybody's drinkin' Henney Kid named Timmy actin' friendly Grabbed her by offending, sure hurt 'cos his game didn't work He didn't know the alcohol's about to get him merc
He tried to French kiss her yo, that's my man twin sister Swung on him, but he threw the toast in my ear I should have known he had people posted in here So I waited till the coast was clear And when he walked off, I put four in his rear, yeah, yeah
Yo, Hud is the type, give him an inch? He takin' a yard 'Cos see, he the type of cat that be thinkin' he hard I told him if he gonna come, he got to come by eight But Hud don't never listen what I say He always do it his way, instead of our way That's why he always caught up in some damn foul play
Talkin' 'bout I said at nine, he killin' time And he ain't checked the time on his wrist He probably somewhere lying to a chick Talkin' 'bout he rich, no, it ain't right How he gonna' leave my big brother Mase and jell overnight He wouldn't sell us out or yell us out But messin' with Hud, we ain't even get to bail him out
I can't believe this nigga Hud tried to blame it on me We on the I-95, three jars on my seat I'm hopin' cops don't be prejudiced, if not we don't eat You know what that mean, shut up Hud, keep drivin' the jeep We got about ten miles, we don' did ten states I should have stayed, knowing Hud? He gonna' gas you to stay
I'm tellin' Hud, yo, pull over we ain't pissed since Penn State The windows all foggy, plus we got temp plates Now Hud steady streetin', not listenin' and yappin' Smokin' Buddha straight from Cuba, 'bout to wish this ain't happen I ain't tryin' to point no fingers but it's all Hud's fault If he wasn't speedin' with no weed we would have never got caught
Cardie, when you gonna' grow up? You need to get chips Stack dough up, switch your flow up, 'cos your single was a donut 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網 Baby Stase, need to learn to stay in the place And Mase, that's your twin, tell her stay out my face And Loon, that's my man but he floss too much
He wanna hang out, 'bout, but he cost too much And Meeno, that's my dog, but he talk too much And Blink, fake pretty boy, soft as butt Oh damn, if I get touched, we gonna' all get touched Go against Harlem World and we gonna' toss you up
Hey yo, Meeno, hey yo, this is Cuda man There go Loon tell him what you told him You was gonna tell him when you see him
Yeah, yeah, playboy, my man Loon Went out like a straight buffoon For a pretty face, a slim waist, sweet perfume Can't believe this shit Second week in June, second night in Cancun Pop Cris' by the full moon and the stars is bright Pray to God that I catch me a slide tonight
But of course, Loon gets drunk then starts to floss Runnin' his yap 'bout the same chick he toss Same chick from tour, all I got was jaw He's all in love, seen it all before Sucka' for love, this is man for a whore And until this day, still goin' to war
Hey yo, you just mad 'cos my chick drop dead And you mad cos I went to Cancun got head You fed, 'cos I'm doin' it and gettin' more bread Why your block hotter than a nuclear warhead You more fed 'cos my pockets are stacked up While you spend most of your day baggin' your cracks up You fat fuck
Hope you get hit by a Mack truck And don't come around forty and front and get tapped up Cracked up, can't wait till this album is wrapped up I'm take you to a vacant lot, dare you to act up So strap up, 'cos I know you don't like me But just know you won't get a chance to fight me Loon, all out
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