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Paroles de chansons
Les paroles de Z Memphis Bleek Sauce Money Wais Celebration:
| | | Artiste: | Team Roc f Jay |
| | Album: | Streets is Watching soundtrack | | Titre: | Z Memphis Bleek Sauce Money Wais Celebration | | | | Date d'ajout: | 18/10/2007 | | Vues: | 378 fois | | | | Paroles: | hispanic voice same as "Intro" from _In My Lifetime, Vol. 1_]
What you think you like me?
You ain't like me *motherfucker*
You a punk
I been with MANY people.. CONNEC-TED
people
Who you been wit? Chain snatchin, ?, mardi gol *motherfuckers*
Why don't you
go get lost
Get out of here, go kick a freestyle or somethin
[Jay-Z]
You're now tuned into the greatest
*Motherfuckers* can't beat us, join us, can't fade us,
hate us
Can't touch it, *fuck it*, can't see em, try to be em
Both shows sold out your
coliseum, 8th Wonder
Locked rap for trey summers, poker faces with the aces under
Face
one up, to take over, the break's over
*Nigga* I'm the God MC, me, Jay-hovah
*Shit*
knockin, almost a crime, get Cochran
Bangin to the hearse where my doctors hand
hot
land, FBI, DEA, I did crime, got away
They wanna see me pay, *motherfuckers* better ride
if they try to plant, under the seat of my car
even a half a gram, better flame those,
plainclothes
Same goes for lame hoes, cocaine rapper
Rep ya game pros
[Wais]
We celebrate this, while you sittin back screamin you hate this
Try to rape
this, get caught in my crime matrix
Spittin sperm inside of latex
You get, no respect
like a child rapist
Delegate this, men just givin facelifts
Leave your melon spacious,
career felon, no hiatus
nor Ceasar's, the CIA flooded my block with diseases
Informants, heating the spot up like global warming
Who start *shit*? My style is laced with
arsenic
Odorless tasteless, cause of death is traceless
I know you wanna see me wasted
You call the order, I'll be in Hell
Team Roc sweater and ice water
Righteous,
dominate the global, my life's a novel
blazin in Barnes and Noble, idolize the vocals
Y'all niggaz is local but that's evident
I'm Resident Evil, movin like ?
[Memphis Bleek]
Millionaire that flow like water, rap *niggaz* runnin
I, oughta
applaud ya, clap at ya
Point the Mac at ya, *niggaz* caught up
Brought up in the
rapture, my flows torture
like a compound fracture, can't *fuck* widdit
For the love
of sex money and drugs
Affiliated with the sets Tecs honies and thugs
Let the four
power, rain on *niggaz* like a spring shower
and bring flowers for the bodies that surround
us
If you was lookin you found us
Movin with speed, tried to play Superman
ended up like Chris Reeves
Parapalegic, precise minds like the Pharoah's of Egypt
Shot
through a barrel *niggaz* narrowly reaped it
Keepin my Team top seeded with the Sweet 16's
bulgin out of my jeans, on the ten-speed weeded
Holdin, ? shots with you like a secret
It's like a story never told, but believe it...
[Sauce Money]
Street
anthem anchor, quick to trade shots just like a banker
Lick a round, *niggaz* hit the ground
like Sanka
I got ya screwface in forty-two ways, Aim better
than toothpaste, Jerry
Maguire
Show Me The Money like Clue tapes
Run up in your spot with a few eights, zonin
Known men, home in, all of my homies condone sin
Four shots spin ya like chrome rims
Put a part right through your dome like the Omen, foamin
White sheets got ya wrapped
like a Roman
Back in New York, honey wants it, just spit blood and talk funny
*Niggaz*
is cartoons, picture styles that's fully developed
like dark rooms, hits fat, cub with a
harpoon
Heat-seekin, grill huntin, still frontin?
Keep squeezin, *fuck it*, I leave
the whole street wheezing
No *motherfuckers* hope I fail, and gotta provoke the frail
Got em scared to drop like soap in jail
[Jay-Z]
Geyeah, there you have it
Just think of ours as can't be touched, tested, whatever
Never disrespect this thing
of ours
Roc-a-Fella family | | | |
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Les paroles de l'artiste: Team Roc F Jay
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