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Fifty Wayz (Street Opera Mix Clean)
por
Kool G Rap
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Letra
Gooch ft. Kool G Rap - “Fifty Wayz (Street Opera Mix)” Yeah, f**k it I’m from The City That Never Sleeps, so how can I sleep? When, every week, there’s a freak sweating athletes in New Jeeps. Ain’t the type to roll in Cherokee, my style Is something darely in the Hills of Beverly merrily S-Class in mint condition. To call me indecent Proposal with my million-dollar propositions? Listen I feed thoughts like I was Hitler, I’m out to hit ya No matter who’s standing with ya, I’m out to get ya You say you wanna leave? You’re leaving now? Just leave us Thanks to Jesus, I received more bread than [?] It’s, like, today, n***as don’t like to [?] (Ay, n***a, where you from?) I’m from the city where the form’s at I’m getting dirty looks from top cops like they wanna Stop, pop at me ‘cause I’m in a Beemer top-drop And be a nice guy for what? n***as been killing Every day, but now, like Mary Kay, I wanna makeup? Wake up, I put the AK to the first n***a that say, “Hey” Back up and call for “Mayday”—sh*t, why not? That’s how all they play If you get me, you better get me ‘cause, if y’all don’t get me I swear to God I’m taking all you motherf**kers with me There’s fifty Ways to die, n***a, step it up and choose one ‘cause n***as Out there in the streets don’t give a f**k where you from, and ain’t A motherf**king bullet prejudiced in my gun. There’s fifty Ways to die, n***a, step it up and choose one Yo, yo, yo, what’s up, kid? What? Them n***as is fronting, kid? (I’m ready to see you) Whatever, kid, man. I don’t give a f**k, son, know’m saying? There’s fifty Ways to die, n***a, step it up and choose one ‘cause n***as Out there in the streets don’t give a f**k where you from, and ain’t A motherf**king bullet prejudiced in my gun. There’s fifty Ways to die, n***a, step it up and choose one Late at night 11PM, we’re three-deep with heat, ready to See him. He pulled up in a black BM. We tucked The chin, seen him—no escape, no running nor no fleeing Ran to the driver’s side and put three in. Through the dark Tinted windows, I see him bleeding, leaking, lungs wheezing And barely breathing, died up in ICU the next evening But we don’t murder without no reason, we get the trigger Squeezing, this was [?] for committing treason. That sh*t was Out of season, out of blindside. Take the Glock, take the fifth And put it in his stash spot. Son, here come the mad cops I see that same one from that last head-drop. Bury that heat Down in that big grass lot. f**k them b*t*h-ass cops We ain’t getting knocked—yo, that sh*t wack. I see that Foul snake conversating with jake, hope he ain’t trying to Perpetrate. Yo, son, that n***a be fake, deflate, had nerve To show his face up in my man wake. Jakes about to jinx him Word up, son, if that n***a stunt, yo, I’ma have to sting him Run up on him and bang him with the motherf**king Ingram You know how we do: the crime way, the nine way Massacre sh*t like Valentine’s Day (x2) There’s fifty Ways to die, n***a, step it up and choose one ‘cause n***as Out there in the streets don’t give a f**k where you from, and ain’t A motherf**king bullet prejudiced in my gun. There’s fifty Ways to die, n***a, step it up and choose one There’s fifty Ways to die, n***a. Die, n***a Die, n***a. Die, n***a No motherf**king doubt, boy G Rap holding it down, Kool G Rap is four-pound Jinx, you lay it down. Nobody make a sound, nah’mean? Underworld crime from New York, baby
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