Текст пісні R.I.P. - Young Jeezy, 2 Chainz

R.I.P.

R.I.P we just killed the club\nDrank patron out the bottle almost killed a thug\nRight now I’m so high I can’t feel the drugs\nToo many haters in here, I don’t feel the love\nR.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P we just killed the club\nTook patron to the head almost killed a thug\nI’m in a brand new drop top 'Rari with three bitches\nTired being in the middle of trial with three snitches\nAnd I hit up every club in your city, where niggas at?\nI be in every club in the hood, where niggas at?\nPull up, jump out stuntin like I was Baby\nOn my cocaine cowboy shit, like in the 80's\nWho the nigga think he is Slick Rick or Dana Dane\nThink he Rakim or somethin, look at his chain\nMyself, from head to toe, I’m Dougie Fresh\nLooking like I came to play, Mitchell and Ness\nAny nigga with a watch like that, he need attention\nYour man don’t ball out like that, you need to bench him\nR.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P we just killed the club\nTook patron to the head almost killed a thug\nR.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P we just killed the club\nTook patron to the head almost killed a thug\nI’m gone, don’t know where I’m going\nPockets on extra big, they on Samoan\nGot some bad bitches all in my section, just let some more in\nAnd every nigga came in with me’ll kick your door in\nRoll up, pass it around like we Jamaican\nWhole pounds strapped up in this bitch like we some Hatians\nShe got good head, good brains, good education\nI’m drunker than a motherfucker, here’s the situation: 1:45 am, the nights\nbroken\nBy the time a nigga get to the crib, the mall open\nMan the nerve of this high-ass bitch, she on the molly\nShe said she she want me to call her Ms. Berry, she think she Halle\nR.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P we just killed the club\nTook patron to the head almost killed a thug\nR.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P we just killed the club\nTook patron to the head almost killed a thug\nGot a pocket full of Dead Prez\nAttached to your girl like a .jpeg\nParty scene turn to a murder scene\nKeep shittin on niggas, need potty train, turn up, collard green\nI’m on gasoline and I’m on that promethazine\nLife ain’t nothin but a G thing\nSwitch lanes, get brain, hand down her g-string\nI’m the type of nigga thats built to last\nYou fuck with me, Ill put my foot in your ass\nI got a million in stash, I stack my money so tall\nThat you might need a giraffe\nWhen you was countin this cash, nigga!\nR.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P we just killed the club\nTook patron to the head almost killed a thug\nR.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P we just killed the club\nTook patron to the head almost killed a thug