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Tytuł: Stop, chill

  • Wykonawca: Beanie Sigel
  • Wy¶wietleń: 297

  
   New shit
  WSUP!
  WSUP!
  WSUP!
  
  [Beanie Mac]
  Stop, chill, relax, and let this nigga Sigel flow
  I know you can't believe the flow, you can't cope I flow dope
  Like a key ya blow
  You like naw, Beans, same nigga from 21st and Sigel street
  When it's beef people let them desert eagle speak
  So whoever, wherever I don't care where we meet
  Stop, chill, don't talk shit sideways outta your mouth
  I will slap spit sideways outta your mouth
  Bitch niggas talk indirect it don't matter
  When you got snitch niggas right in your set
  That's why I know where you niggas sling coke and pump D at
  Same spot that you liable to see me at
  Gun and a mask, one in the stash where the seed at
  Stop, all my young bucks huggin the block
  Stop puttin drugs in your sock
  You makin it easy for the cops to catch you
  They hooked to that stash and that trash and that bag of pretzels
  You gotta hustle smarter than that
  Cop coke harder than that, keep your dough apart from your crack
  Keep a stash in the dark for the trap
  Man you never know when the narks gon launch an attack
  
  HOOK: repeat 2X
  
  Stop, I know you cats livin a lie
  You niggas rats you aint willin to die
  Chill, I spit it for my niggas keepin it street
  Keepin they steel, all my niggas keepin it real
  
  It's still vex in the game tryin na earn respect
  I got the best of out and y'all aint heard shit yet
  You can shuffle up the cards I'ma learn the deck
  When I do the game is mine, man I'm aimin high
  Niggas talk about guns don't be carryin none
  Every two hammers I cock I'm buryin one
  I'ma dress in all stash this year, whenever I'm near
  From the First Union, to Madison Square
  Stop, chill, cuz I know y'all niggas like Mac fuckin that track
  Let me show you somethin dog it aint nothin for Mac
  It come all natural like I'm bustin my gat
  Or I'm stuck in a spot crushin the crack
  Got ice in a pot, fluffin the crack
  Takin backs to the block so don't stuff in them packs
  Doin life on the Roc aint nothin fuckin with that
  Me, jail, dog, you can put me under the ground
  Where I'm from all my niggas they from under the ground
  You can hear us when we come it's a thunderous sound
  Trees, stompin, Roc jeans and a bunch of white T troopers
  Stay on post with they toast and they like to shoot you
  Philly cats no rack, big guns and Sumas
  
  HOOK 2X