- 歌詞
- 專輯列表
Kurupt
-
No Feelings
作詞:Ricardo Brown, Tracey Horton, Anthony Moody, Stephen Walker
Nigga, I ain't got no feelings What the fuck you think this is? I got no reason to live So make your mind up
What you wanna do? I make your family be missing you Nigga I ain't got no feelings What the fuck you think this is?
I got no reason to live So make your mind up What you wanna do? I make your family be missing you
Dustin' you off like dirty finger prints on evidence Battlin' me ya dead like presidents I'm Fresh like Prince, Jazzy like Jeff The man just like Meth
Crazy like Left plus jams is like Def Wid a pen I'm king like Kurupt When I throw a style you betta duck If you don't yo ass is outta luck
Don't fuck, wid the masta If I have to, the I'll blast ya Then go to church to see my pastor Why ya have to be like this
Me and the mic's tight like Gladys Knight and the Pips This year my son turned six Yo style's wack and you need to get that shit fixed Representin' Jersey my raps hittin' harder than bricks
I'm iller, realer, than ya local drug dealer Come to my villa, meet the nine milla Lettin' off, where I stop you gettin' off Make you feel it juts like Latifah's kiss in set it off
You want war come on, put on the boxing gloves People call me an artist in the canvas 'Cause I draw blood, that's what's up Wid the shit I maneuver
Hit the losers wid a Luger, than lay up in Aruba I'm gon' be rappin' till you motherfuckas get sick ah me on the mic I'm sicker than ten niggas wid HIV, Tracy, had the cico, the freako Holdin' heat somewhere on Wall Street wid Sloppy Joe You hear me though?
Nigga, I ain't got no feelings What the fuck you think this is? I got no reason to live So make your mind up 更多更詳盡歌詞 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔鏡歌詞網
What you wanna do? I make your family be missing you Nigga I ain't got no feelings What the fuck you think this is?
I got no reason to live So make your mind up What you wanna do? I make your family be missing you
My name is Stephen, I eat MCs for no apparent reason It in you if you skeezin' I'm pleasin' Those who dare, I advise you not to stare You be assed out like a flat tyre widout a spare
I declare war before I had to even the score You got me hot like sand on the shore, I'm runnin' the floor Like a ballerina, I go back like Flava Flav in cold Medina I get homies to make you say, 'You seen her?'
I'm pregnant, but only in my mind Hopin' my baby rhyme grows up to be a triple platinum album I fell on, using the steel to do crimes Smoked so many niggas they put up no smoking signs
Charismatic asthmatic, ballin' like Madden Cream, automatic attractive like a magnet Speedin' like car racin', cream like carnation Burned out my Playstation while cats be scar facin'
Hey old lady, sorry's all I can say By bills got me lookin' at pocket books, in a different way Fox got the bubbled eye Benz-o I'm in the back of Kurupt flex truck playin' 64 Nintendo
Get peeled, skills in the fields Raw dog raw deals, niggas either ill, fake or real Penetrates I only heard ah tens and thirty eights Ride as the niggas turnin' states and flippin' crates
Get lift like weights, bust and radiate spreadin' infections Murderous mafia connections, I wanna feel touched like feelings Start drillin' start ampin' out, hittin' wid autos campin' out Wid autos innovative calculative creative
Touched nigga, hectic, wid a couple seconds A bust nigga, from a distance I can peep a fuck up You on the Ave wid nuthin' but cash to get stuck up Man them diamonds y'all got is nice, hot
Never seen cowards wid so much ice I got blocks to get all that's got behind the scenes Sellin' glocks, tech nines, sixteens and magazines Zines, zines, zines
-
|