CORRIGER LES PAROLES
Paroles : 47
6 foot da jussa ni, rehnda barrel'a moohre taneya
Mere purkhe dasde ne, ni mein ladan layie hi baneya
Jeone to maarne tayi, ni mein kamm jaanda' saare
Meinu Vairi Kehnde ne, 47 ni Muteyaare
Mere Vairi Kehnde ne meinu 47 ni Muteyaare, Uhh
Sick, thicker than most of these tricks
I got my mind on making money but you stuck on these fake b*t*hes
I stay blunted and never frontеd and I doubt if I do
Cause if I did then I'd get bеat up by f**king crew
A real n***a since you figure that you ready to box
You catch knots from my n***a Freddie Foxxx
Uh, you don't really want none from 'Pac
Cause I be strapped with a Glock
And throw thangs like I'm born to pop
I hit this motherf**king gin and I be all in
Hell yeah, young n***a straight balling
And everybody wants to see if I'm a G
Weighing 165 and I'm high till I f**king die
Thug Life in this motherf**ker catching wreck
Big Stretch hit me off when I hit the set
But now I'm cool cause I'm tipsy and I feel a
n***a tryna see if I'm a killer, come on
Meinu Vairi Kehnde ne, 47 ni Muteyaare
Mere Vairi Kehnde ne meinu 47 ni Muteyaare, Uhh
I got seven Mac-11's, about eight .38's
Nine 9's, ten Mac-10's the sh*ts never end
You can't touch my riches
Even if you had MC Hammer and them 357 b*t*hes
Biggie Smalls, the millionaire, the mansion, the yacht
The two weed spots, the two hot Glocks
Huh, that's how I got the weed spot
I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the lamb spread
Lil' Gotti got the shotty to your body
So don't resist or you might miss Christmas
I tote guns, I make number runs
I give MCs the runs dripping
When I throw my clip in the AK, I slay from far away
Everybody hit the D-E-C-K
My slow flows remarkable, peace to Matteo
Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniff the yayo
That's crazy blunts, mad L's
My voice excels from the avenue to jail cells
Oh my God I'm dropping sh*t like a pigeon
I hope you're listening, smacking babies at they christening
So you better grab your pistol
'Cause if you sit still, I'm gonna make your f**king sh*t spill
And I'm talking 'bout buckets, why did I have to do it?
Sadat said f**k it, you got a gun, n***a bust it
'Cause I got mo' shots to pop ya
Big Poppa, breaking you off something proper
Signing off is the hardcore rap singer
AKA crack slinger, bring it any time n***a
Meinu Vairi Kehnde ne, 47 ni Muteyaare
Mere Vairi Kehnde ne meinu 47 ni Muteyaare, Uhh
Couple apnas, couple karleh
Yeah, I just blew a chase from the mameh (oh gone)
Harami karla with his army (army)
Zooti and glassy in my party (glassy)
Moosewala and Mist, what the rahted (aah)
Pull it out and bark it, at the target
Still get busy with the strizzy, I'm a artist (aah)
All the way to the bank, yeah, I'm laughing
Raule na' naal jurhde ne, sun saah' loka da sukda
Din jaap to shuru hunda, aa ke paap te mithiye mukkda
Baki puchi akhbara to, ni mein ki a mere baare
Meinu Vairi Kehnde ne, 47 ni Muteyaare
Mere Vairi Kehnde ne meinu 47 ni Muteyaare
Mere purkhe dasde ne, ni mein ladan layie hi baneya
Jeone to maarne tayi, ni mein kamm jaanda' saare
Meinu Vairi Kehnde ne, 47 ni Muteyaare
Mere Vairi Kehnde ne meinu 47 ni Muteyaare, Uhh
Sick, thicker than most of these tricks
I got my mind on making money but you stuck on these fake b*t*hes
I stay blunted and never frontеd and I doubt if I do
Cause if I did then I'd get bеat up by f**king crew
A real n***a since you figure that you ready to box
You catch knots from my n***a Freddie Foxxx
Uh, you don't really want none from 'Pac
Cause I be strapped with a Glock
And throw thangs like I'm born to pop
I hit this motherf**king gin and I be all in
Hell yeah, young n***a straight balling
And everybody wants to see if I'm a G
Weighing 165 and I'm high till I f**king die
Thug Life in this motherf**ker catching wreck
Big Stretch hit me off when I hit the set
But now I'm cool cause I'm tipsy and I feel a
n***a tryna see if I'm a killer, come on
Meinu Vairi Kehnde ne, 47 ni Muteyaare
Mere Vairi Kehnde ne meinu 47 ni Muteyaare, Uhh
I got seven Mac-11's, about eight .38's
Nine 9's, ten Mac-10's the sh*ts never end
You can't touch my riches
Even if you had MC Hammer and them 357 b*t*hes
Biggie Smalls, the millionaire, the mansion, the yacht
The two weed spots, the two hot Glocks
Huh, that's how I got the weed spot
I shot dread in the head, took the bread and the lamb spread
Lil' Gotti got the shotty to your body
So don't resist or you might miss Christmas
I tote guns, I make number runs
I give MCs the runs dripping
When I throw my clip in the AK, I slay from far away
Everybody hit the D-E-C-K
My slow flows remarkable, peace to Matteo
Now we smoke weed like Tony Montana sniff the yayo
That's crazy blunts, mad L's
My voice excels from the avenue to jail cells
Oh my God I'm dropping sh*t like a pigeon
I hope you're listening, smacking babies at they christening
So you better grab your pistol
'Cause if you sit still, I'm gonna make your f**king sh*t spill
And I'm talking 'bout buckets, why did I have to do it?
Sadat said f**k it, you got a gun, n***a bust it
'Cause I got mo' shots to pop ya
Big Poppa, breaking you off something proper
Signing off is the hardcore rap singer
AKA crack slinger, bring it any time n***a
Meinu Vairi Kehnde ne, 47 ni Muteyaare
Mere Vairi Kehnde ne meinu 47 ni Muteyaare, Uhh
Couple apnas, couple karleh
Yeah, I just blew a chase from the mameh (oh gone)
Harami karla with his army (army)
Zooti and glassy in my party (glassy)
Moosewala and Mist, what the rahted (aah)
Pull it out and bark it, at the target
Still get busy with the strizzy, I'm a artist (aah)
All the way to the bank, yeah, I'm laughing
Raule na' naal jurhde ne, sun saah' loka da sukda
Din jaap to shuru hunda, aa ke paap te mithiye mukkda
Baki puchi akhbara to, ni mein ki a mere baare
Meinu Vairi Kehnde ne, 47 ni Muteyaare
Mere Vairi Kehnde ne meinu 47 ni Muteyaare
