Сайт фанатов группы «КуБа»

Lyrics Offset – Cinco de mayo

Migo like Cinco de Mayo, I got the trap in my bio
Yeah, mini fourteen with the drum, I put your a*s on a flyer
Uh, niggas out here really bums
Versuri-lyrics.info
Want take your b*tch, I might buy her
Uh, sippin’ on lean like it’s rum, but it do not get me tired
Uh, if you gon’ pull out that gun, you better c*ck it and fire
Uh, b*tch I came up from a crumb, did this for grandma, she flyin’
Uh, you can come still get a one, f*ck it my niggas gon’ jump
Uh, saw off the front of the pump, put the gun up to your gum.(cinco de mayo)
Offset lyrics
Video mayo

Lyrics YoungBoy Never Broke Again – Confidential

I’m like take me to the safe noooo
Where Im from no it aint safe nooooo
You get shot up in your face uuhuh yeah
Versuri-lyrics.info
Nigga know that we don’t play nooo yeahhh.(confidential)
Youngboy Never Broke Again lyrics
Video Youngboy Never Broke Again

[Intro: Ron G – echoing at each break]
Yes, indeed, it’s the mix king, Ron G
I got somethin’ the world ain’t ready for
New York City, L.A., Chicago, Atlanta
D.C., Detroit, New Orleans
Y’all know the deal, Flava!!!

[Interlude: 2Pac]
Hahahahahaha! Yeah, nigga!
Yeah, that’s right! Bay-bayy!
That’s how we do it!

[Verse 1: 2Pac]
Follow me, tell me if you feel me
I think niggas is tryin’ to kill me
Picturin’ pistols, spittin’ hollow points ’til they drill me
Keepin’ it real, and even if I do conceal
My criminal thoughts, preoccupied with keepin’ steel
See, niggas is false, sittin’ in court, turned snitches
That used to be real, but now they petrified bitches
I’m tryin’ to be strong, they sendin’ armies out to bomb me
Listen to Ron, the only DJ that can calm me
Constantly armed, my firepower keep me warm
I’m trapped in the storm and fuck the world ’til I’m gone
Bitches be warned: word is bond, you’ll get torn
I’m bustin’ on Giuliani, he rubbin’ my niggas wrong
And then it’s on, before I leave, picture me
I’m spittin’ at punk bitches and hustlin’ to be free
Watch me set it, niggas don’t want it, you can get it
Bet it make these jealous niggas mad I said it
This thug life nigga, we don’t cater to you hoes
Fuck with me and have
A hundred motherfuckers at yo’ do’ with fo’-fo’s!
Hahahahaha, yeah, nigga! Thug Life!

[Verse 2: Big L]
I be that young, pretty, fly, smooth, glorious kid
A Bad Boy, just like The Notorious B.I.G
I’ll rock a fella, like Shawn Carter
With more game than Ron Harper
The bomb sparker rapper slash charm robber
While y’all be on the corners bummy and high
I be out buyin’ the finest shit money can buy
You wish you was in a position that I’m in
Hot rhymin’, diamonds shinin’, autograph signin’
My lifestyle is far out
Every week bring a different car out
I go to nightclubs and buy the bar out, huh
‘Cause I keep cream, I’m large on the street scene
Every time I touch mics you hear all the freaks scream

[Outro: Big L + 2Pac]
Yeah, yeah, Big L, Harlem’s finest, yeah
That nigga who hold it down for Uptown
Hahahaha! That’s how we do it out here
On this underground real shit, nigga, it’s the heat, nigga
Now, rewind this motherfucker
You know you can’t help it
Deadly combination, bwoy!

[Intro: 2Pac]
I ain’t got no motherfuckin’ friends
That’s why I fucked yo’ bitch, you fat motherfucker!
(Take money) West Side, Bad Boy killers
(Take money) You know who the realest is
(Take money) We bring it too
(Take money)

[Verse 1: 2Pac]
First off, fuck yo’ bitch and the clique you claim
Westside when we ride, come equipped with game
You claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife
We bust on Bad Boys, niggas fucked for life
Plus, Puffy tryna see me, weak hearts I rip
Biggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A. is some mark-ass bitches
We keep on comin’ while we runnin’ for your jewels
Steady gunnin’, keep on bustin’ at them fools, you know the rules
Lil’ Caesar, go ask your homie how I’ll leave ya
Cut your young-ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased
Lil’ Kim, don’t fuck around with real G’s
Quick to snatch yo’ ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace!
I’ll let them niggas know it’s on for life
Don’t let the Westside ride tonight (ha ha ha)
Bad Boy murdered on wax and killed
Fuck with me and get yo’ caps peeled, you know

[Hook: 2Pac]
See, grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac, uh
Who shot me? But you punks didn’t finish
Now you ’bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit ’em up!

[Interlude: 2Pac]
Check this out, you motherfuckers know what time it is
I don’t know why I’m even on this track
Y’all niggas ain’t even on my level
I’ma let my little homies ride
On you bitch-made ass Bad Boy bitches, feel it!

[Verse 2: Hussein Fatal]
Get out the way yo, get out the way yo
Biggie Smalls just got dropped
Little Moo’, pass the MAC
And let me hit him in his back
Frank White needs to get spanked right for settin’ traps
Little accident murderer
And I ain’t never heard of ya
Poisonous gats attack when I’m servin’ ya
Spank ya, shank ya whole style when I gank
Guard your rank ’cause I’ma slam your ass in the paint
Puffy weaker than the fuckin’ block I’m runnin’ through, nigga
And I’m smokin’ Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you, nigga
With the ready power
Tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer
Your clout petty/sour
I push packages every hour; I hit ’em up!

[Hook: 2Pac]
Grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac, uh
Who shot me? But you punks didn’t finish
Now you ’bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Nigga, I hit ’em up!

[Verse 3: 2Pac]
Peep how we do it, keep it real as penitentiary steel
This ain’t no freestyle battle, all you niggas gettin’ killed
With your mouths open
Tryna come up off of me, you in the clouds, hopin’
Smokin’ dope, it’s like a sherm high
Niggas think they learned to fly
But they burn, motherfucker, you deserve to die
Talkin’ about you gettin’ money, but it’s funny to me
All you niggas livin’ bummy — why you fuckin’ with me?
I’m a self-made millionaire
Thug livin’, out of prison, pistols in the air (ha ha)
Biggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch
And beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house?
Now it’s all about Versace, you copied my style
Five shots couldn’t drop me, I took it and smiled
Now I’m back to set the record straight
With my AK, I’m still the thug that you love to hate
Motherfucker, I hit ’em up!

[Verse 4: Kadafi]
I’m from N-E-W Jers’ where plenty of murders occurs
No points or commas, we bring drama to all you herbs
Now go check the scenario: Lil’ Cease
I’ll bring you fake G’s to your knees, coppin’ pleas in de Janeiro
Little Kim, is you coked up or doped up?
Get your little Junior Whopper click smoked up
What the fuck, is you stupid?
I take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn
With my click lootin’, shootin’ and pollutin’ your block
With a 15-shot cocked Glock to your knot
Outlaw MAFIA clique movin’ up another notch
And your pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped
All your fake-ass East Coast props brainstormed and locked

[Verse 5: E.D.I. Mean]
You’s a beat biter, a Pac style taker
I’ll tell you to your face you ain’t shit but a faker
Softer than Alize with a chaser
About to get murdered for the paper
E.D.I. Mean approach the scene of the caper
Like a loc, with Little Ceas’ in a choke
Gun totin’ smoke, we ain’t no motherfuckin’ joke
Thug Life, niggas better be knowin’
We approachin’ in the wide open, gun smokin’
No need for hopin’, it’s a battle lost
I got ’em crossed as soon as the funk is boppin’ off
Nigga, I hit ’em up!

[Outro: 2Pac]
Now you tell me who won
I see them, they run, ha ha
They don’t wanna see us
Whole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique dressin’ up tryna be us
How the fuck they gonna be the mob
When we always on our job?
We millionaires, killin’ ain’t fair
But somebody gotta do it
Oh yeah, Mobb Deep: you wanna fuck with us?
You little young-ass motherfuckers
Don’t one of you niggas got sickle-cell or somethin’?
You’re fuckin’ with me, nigga
You fuck around and have a seizure or a heart attack
You better back the fuck up
Before you get smacked the fuck up
This is how we do it on our side
Any of you niggas from New York that wanna bring it, bring it!
But we ain’t singin’, we bringin’ drama
Fuck you and yo’ motherfuckin’ mama!
We gon’ kill all you motherfuckers!
Now when I came out I told you it was just about Biggie
Then everybody had to open their mouth
With a motherfuckin’ opinion
Well, this is how we gonna do this: fuck Mobb Deep! Fuck Biggie!
Fuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label and as a motherfuckin’ crew!
And if you wanna be down with Bad Boy, then fuck you too!
Chino XL: fuck you too!
All you motherfuckers, fuck you too!
(Take money, take money)
All of y’all motherfuckers, fuck you, die slow!
Motherfucker, my .44 make sho’ all y’all kids don’t grow!
You motherfuckers can’t be us or see us
We motherfuckin’ Thug Life-riders, Westside ’til we die!
Out here in California, nigga, we warned ya
We’ll bomb on you motherfuckers! We do our job!
You think you mob? Nigga, we the motherfuckin’ mob!
Ain’t nothin’ but killers and the real niggas
All you motherfuckers feel us
Our shit goes triple and 4-quadruple
You niggas laugh ’cause our staff got guns under their motherfuckin’ belts
You know how it is: when we drop records, they felt
You niggas can’t feel it, we the realest
Fuck ’em, we Bad Boy killers!

[Verse 1: Lil Durk]
Fuck a footage, Nuski died in my face
I knew I lost my family, I seen the color of the tape
His mamma still mad, so I gave her a break
Break, bitch
Her OG’s starting to think that I’m fake
Chino, Asap, Pluto, Moski, Tayski, I can’t live without them
Gutta, that’s Zoo brother
I don’t know him, but heard a lot about him
Get smoked if you caught without it
Thinkin’ ’bout a pass, I doubt it
Opps took so many factors, had to go and buy some choppers
Niggas killed your homie, you ain’t even ride
Me and Booka from the Lam back to Steve Drive
Folk ‘nem extra
Folk ‘nem four, five deep
On Pluto, Folk ‘nem desperate
Shooting shit with no mask on
Fuck it ’cause Folk ‘nem catching
Have a kickback on your block
We poppin’ in every way
Why he keep on talking like we won’t turn him into a day?
Niggas snake me once, then it’s fuck niggas
And you know we Muslim, so they had to keep the blood in ’em
This will knock you cold, ain’t nobody put no slugs in ’em
Smoking on that Zeko, Fat Head, Tutu, Tooka, Lil Marc, Jojo
Yes, we do it! (Gang)

[Interlude: Lil Durk]
Doo-doo (Ooh, ooh)
Doo-doo

[Verse 2: Booka 600]
L’A lost his blood, nigga
If it was me, the one, they always had star, nigga
And we was having heart to heart discussions
Long nights in them trenches, shootouts bussin’
Fuck the opps, we smoke Brick up in the lobby
Got five brothers, they down for them bodies
Nobody told
Six ain’t got no love in ’em
Niggas out here spelling loyal, ain’t got love in it
These niggas bold
Lil Boo told me how it was, nigga
All eyes on us, don’t trust niggas
I feel his soul
Pull that AK, let up
Ain’t a opp out here I’m letting up on
Stello died for this shit, ain’t letting up on ’em
And I cried for that shit, this shit heavy on me (Yeah)

[Verse 3: Lil Durk]
Free all my brothers, I gotta go get ’em
Can’t tell you the story ’cause I’ma die with ’em
You beefing with Folk ‘nem, I cannot get in it
If it’s not a foreign, I cannot get in it
Nobody knows
Nobody knows
Made this shit when I was all in my feelings
In school, we posted up all in the building
Your homie had told, but that’s not my business (He told)
Niggas be trippin’
Lil nigga, you know what you did
It’s crazy, I heard you be fucking with kids
(Yeah, heard you fucking with kids)
(Murder, murder)
Nigga, we ballin’
Money to the jail, lawyers and bail
Money to the side to the side ‘case they be callin’
I’ma press one, niggas be dodging

[Outro: Lil Durk, Booka 600, and Both]
We don’t do this often
Catch a opp and off him
Nigga we ball
Yeah, yeah
600, 600 (600), Snitch-K
600 (600)
600 (600)
Snitch-K (Snitch-K)
600 (600)
300 (300)
300 (300)