Arty¶ci na literê:
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 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Utwory na literê:
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 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
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 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Utwory na literê:
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 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
Here Come The Horns
- wykonawca: Delinquent Habits
Check it out now
Hey hey troop style's hard to find
I sit where we sit it's time to go for mine
See I remain in place wit shit so funky
You could bite for days my shit remains crunchy
Good wit my own style droppin that
Looky Lou's all hokin but I stompin that
You's a c copycat now watch me take you thru to hell
Must be out lookin for biters in the big bad world
I am the one to take you higher
to liquidisation, heart and desire
Go 'head, light the fire, as I get smoke
There ain't a way to stop the madness when I go for broke
Chorus:
Aiyo kid, you must be kidding me
You're the epitome, of no identity
It's about what you say and how you say it
Now that's hardcore, time to settle the score
I'm fed up with the old shit, gimme some new shit
I won't sit, get off my grip
See I'm tired of these imitating gangsta clones
For them I got a slingshot, rotty's and stones
I come steppin on the scene, my Delinquent team, be here to elevate
Even the fakes should get their soul get
Rippin up your frame, it's the critical acclaim
Breakin you up, like the Buddha crank shrinks my brain
Cos there can be only one ?????, only one to rule
Bet the coon new G, witta steel that's new
Yet some won't like the way I strangle the mic, though
I won't funk the kids, can't fake the Gambino
Kid, you must be kidding me
It's a joke, why ya gotta be kidding me?
We're goin nowhere fast in this flavorless mess hall
Why can't you stand tall? Cos I heard a distress call
Chorus (x2)
Once again, I go fly thru the speaker
Your style suck, fuckin like a tweaker
One grain falls, the rest soon follow
Cos everybody knows (your wacked style's borrowed)
It seems everybody write they're OG killers
Everybody's flippin big-time dope dealers
(Versace) and Gucci, rollin big time lucci
Big ......, steady sellin out the real
Now oh damn, now look what I've done
wit the little bit of help from the rhymes I brung
You know who you are, don't front, just shoot hits
Delinquent it's in the house, to rock this shit
Chorus (x2)
Check it out now
Hey hey troop style's hard to find
I sit where we sit it's time to go for mine
See I remain in place wit shit so funky
You could bite for days my shit remains crunchy
Good wit my own style droppin that
Looky Lou's all hokin but I stompin that
You's a c copycat now watch me take you thru to hell
Must be out lookin for biters in the big bad world
I am the one to take you higher
to liquidisation, heart and desire
Go 'head, light the fire, as I get smoke
There ain't a way to stop the madness when I go for broke
Chorus:
Aiyo kid, you must be kidding me
You're the epitome, of no identity
It's about what you say and how you say it
Now that's hardcore, time to settle the score
I'm fed up with the old shit, gimme some new shit
I won't sit, get off my grip
See I'm tired of these imitating gangsta clones
For them I got a slingshot, rotty's and stones
I come steppin on the scene, my Delinquent team, be here to elevate
Even the fakes should get their soul get
Rippin up your frame, it's the critical acclaim
Breakin you up, like the Buddha crank shrinks my brain
Cos there can be only one ?????, only one to rule
Bet the coon new G, witta steel that's new
Yet some won't like the way I strangle the mic, though
I won't funk the kids, can't fake the Gambino
Kid, you must be kidding me
It's a joke, why ya gotta be kidding me?
We're goin nowhere fast in this flavorless mess hall
Why can't you stand tall? Cos I heard a distress call
Chorus (x2)
Once again, I go fly thru the speaker
Your style suck, fuckin like a tweaker
One grain falls, the rest soon follow
Cos everybody knows (your wacked style's borrowed)
It seems everybody write they're OG killers
Everybody's flippin big-time dope dealers
(Versace) and Gucci, rollin big time lucci
Big ......, steady sellin out the real
Now oh damn, now look what I've done
wit the little bit of help from the rhymes I brung
You know who you are, don't front, just shoot hits
Delinquent it's in the house, to rock this shit
Chorus (x2)