Інформація про пісню На цій сторінці ви можете ознайомитися з текстом пісні Mafia, виконавця - BOLDY JAMES.
Дата випуску: 11.08.2019
Вікові обмеження: 18+
Мова пісні: Англійська
Mafia |
They’re all smokin' on the stick, you know we cook shit |
High niggas up and then they say my nigga cook shit |
Man I ain’t run off with your work, bitch I took it |
Out in Brooklyn, way this shit be lookin' I’ma touch the ticketmaster |
All this drink in my kidneys, need to empty my bladder |
They speakin' down about no bitty, fuck the chitter-chatter |
Get a nigga splattered, find that peg, the only shit that matter |
I might just touch down in your city under short notice |
And make her ride the white horse, half as slow as doing water aerobics |
He say we’re bitches man, we call him heroic |
Gotta switch my model, instead of sayin' fuck tomorrow |
I brought a bottle just to pour out the moment, I really play the lotto |
Might shoot the dice, I love the scramble |
In my life I took a gamble, but my God, He told me no bit |
The police kickin' on your door, like «Where the dope at?» |
Only think they wanna know is did you get this shit from Bojak? |
Fuck the rallies tellin' bitches get the rosette |
Feel like Tony Soprano, poppin' pills like they Prozac |
No fannypack, used to trap out of full family flack |
Was a net in the two sports way before rap |
Back in them housephone days, they had my phone tapped |
Was clockwork, I used to cop a Chev' and get it drove back |
Type that get caught and take the whole rap |
They call me Blockworks, aka Mr. Hit-The-Road-Jack |
Gritted like I’m quackers with them killers and the takers |
Doin' a run, I can’t go down to Austin like a wave on their coast |
Catchin' pot 'cause we be boilin' like the Leckers |
Big 40, neck water, highway sluts, I’m in the scraper |
Got the real bad prices, niggas callin' in for prices |
Get you dropped on my lonely, I ain’t callin' in no favours |
In the hood with the family, you can catch me with the creatures |
In the nooks, in the crannies, all the crevices and creases |
Big bucks, no lend-me's, live at the man of it |
In the hood they can’t band me, I’m a legend with this street shit |
Fresh up out the firm feel like a medic with them re-scripts |
I feel out with the grudge but I kept in touch with Felix |
Burnin' big cooky reals and temp, be on my way to Phoenix |
Yeah she know that pussy good, I just hit it when I need it |
Beat the case, gotta quit and now he feelin' undefeated |
Never been in touch with shit, in 30 seconds I can’t leave it |
Where we at with it? |
Fuck the rallies tellin' bitches get the rosette |
Feel like Tony Soprano, poppin' pills like they Prozac |
No fannypack, used to trap out of full family flack |
Was a net in the two sports way before rap |
Back in them housephone days, they had my phone tapped |
Was clockwork, I used to cop a Chev' and get it drove back |
Type that get caught and take the whole rap |
They call me Blockworks, aka Mr. Hit-The-Road-Jack |
Unless you a part of that I’m not gonna let you see that |
Only thing you gon' see is us enjoyin' ourselves |
That’s what you supposed to see |
Unless you a part of it |
Or whatever else goin' on |
Know what I’m sayin'? (Mafia) |
Those that do gotta have old chap, but obviously |
I could go anywhere on the planet |
And not worry about nothin' (Mafia) |
Two jobs ain’t enough man, I mean they just can’t pull nothin' out here |
They can’t grip it, they growin' up |
And it’s an end to an era, you know what I’m sayin'? |
They should be growin' up, we grew up in the 'hold your tongue' |
'Don't say nuttin" you know, you know what I mean, um |
You hate our rap, kill our rap (Mafia) |