CORRIGER LES PAROLES
Paroles : Kel_
I'm bout to vent so let me spaz out
I'm bout to mash out, ma** out
Mack i'm on the cash route
I spaz out to pull that mag out
I air my gun, the coroners coming
And they bringing them bags out
And bring the yellow tape
Cuz with the taurus I be sparking at the tour
(?) then i dump the eight
So play superman without the cape
And end up like Christpher Reeves from your feet to your f**kin' waist
I get it jumping when I dump the eight
I lick a shot, lift his top, get the mop and get the f**king waste
I get the chop, (?)
These n***as featherweight they hesitate, the bezzy levitate they face
And I ain't heavyweight, but i got heavy weight
Now whip my sh*t to the oil, you (?)
And thats the one mistake
I call a shot, ba-de-ah ba-de-ah, body chopped and in the f**kin' lake
Get cha game face on
Eight long, break bones
I had the snub had to tuck it
Nose on the face, gone
Ducking for eight long
Six feet for you to sleep from the mini me
N***a cuz it used to be a eight long
But with no bake on my plate
You can call it crystal lake
Chop rocks with the razor just call me Jason
Mixing five eighths, twelve twelves with my J's on
Six twelve to twelve (?) twenty four (?)
I display form, the toaster draw
Ain't no arm leg or arm, somebody show em the morgue
I'm in the corner store, acting all pack the raw
Gat up in my shoulder holster poking out my forearm
Step to my warzone, its frontline
I'm man to man line while these pussies in the 2-3 zone
And i keep chrome when the eagle is drawn
I start tweakin' so you better have your track suits on
Bring the hazmats, I got plasma gats that squirt with a light chirp with no kick
I'm bout to mash out, ma** out
Mack i'm on the cash route
I spaz out to pull that mag out
I air my gun, the coroners coming
And they bringing them bags out
And bring the yellow tape
Cuz with the taurus I be sparking at the tour
(?) then i dump the eight
So play superman without the cape
And end up like Christpher Reeves from your feet to your f**kin' waist
I get it jumping when I dump the eight
I lick a shot, lift his top, get the mop and get the f**king waste
I get the chop, (?)
These n***as featherweight they hesitate, the bezzy levitate they face
And I ain't heavyweight, but i got heavy weight
Now whip my sh*t to the oil, you (?)
And thats the one mistake
I call a shot, ba-de-ah ba-de-ah, body chopped and in the f**kin' lake
Get cha game face on
Eight long, break bones
I had the snub had to tuck it
Nose on the face, gone
Ducking for eight long
Six feet for you to sleep from the mini me
N***a cuz it used to be a eight long
But with no bake on my plate
You can call it crystal lake
Chop rocks with the razor just call me Jason
Mixing five eighths, twelve twelves with my J's on
Six twelve to twelve (?) twenty four (?)
I display form, the toaster draw
Ain't no arm leg or arm, somebody show em the morgue
I'm in the corner store, acting all pack the raw
Gat up in my shoulder holster poking out my forearm
Step to my warzone, its frontline
I'm man to man line while these pussies in the 2-3 zone
And i keep chrome when the eagle is drawn
I start tweakin' so you better have your track suits on
Bring the hazmats, I got plasma gats that squirt with a light chirp with no kick
