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A+ - Текст песни Some Other Shit
West Coast Mafia
 100 percent
 Mob Figgaz n' real niggaz
 We M-O-B L-I-F-E
 My nigga ap9
 Bgeezy
 Food Free
 Killa Tay trick
 [Killa Tay]
 I never hearda these fools
 I'm quick to murder these fools
 Dude if you hop off on this gangsta shit
 Study the rules
 Or get bloody and bruised
 Tied up jacked and kidnapped
 My fo thugs wit no love savagely raising big straps
 We git em Lloyd
 Trigga finga itchy like the hemmroids
 Snap you like a poloriod
 Somebody better hol'ja boy
 Flawless like Roy Jones
 Destroy bones on contact
 Life ain't shit
 Witout some pussy and a bomb sack
 Million Dollar contracts
 Comin' and goin'
 But y'all aint knowin'
 Bank account swollen
 Picture me rollin'
 In the Escalade
 High starin death in the face
 Heart fulla hate
 Puttin work in but aint catchin no case
 I got my game tight
 Cuz big homey, laced me as a young G
 Hungry for my chedda cheeze
 Pushin OZ's
 Make a profit hoes
 Gots to got my name in they mouth
 They bumpin guns and smokin murda blunts
 When the guns come out
 They poppin' please don't shoot
 But ain't no git back when the shit crack
 Murda man like Al Capone
 Bust him wit the big gat
 Hit him high
 Feel the ride
 Aint givin a fuck about Genocide
 When this song is on
 I gotta ride for mine
 When the war pop off
 Niggas die
 Like fay days
 Kill em all from the OG's to the Bebe's
 When the gun blaze
 Like sun rays
 Doin drive by's on the run ways
 Feds tryin to hunt Tay down
 In every town
 From Philly to Compton they investigatin
 My stomach rounds
[Chorus] 2x
 All my niggas smuggle shit
 I'm on some otha shit
 Like fuckin' over the government
 My ghetto politic thug niggas lovin this
 Leavin u open like a hollow tip
 Inside ya nigga
 Swollow this
 Hollow Hollow
 [AP-9]A+ - Some Other Shit - http://ru.motolyrics.com/a-plus/some-other-shit-lyrics.html
 I don't give a shit
 Still lettin off clips
 Gimme the mike and let me touch some shit 'till I love
 I get a headrush
 When the lead go bust
 Kickin up dust
 Man that's a must
 Sometimes on the mike I cuss
 Kickin up dust on the mike I buss
 I know my people's know who really run
 Smokin' up on a Philly Blunt
 Slappin' a sucka wit a gun
 Crushin' up shit just like Big Pun
 North to the East
 South to the West
 I most confess
 I gotta get a piece
 Betta yet a hoe can't settle for less
 I don't discriminate
 Every fake nigga perpetrate
 Concentrate on makin' papes
 Shakin' fakes in the month of gate
 Keepin' em as I contemplate
 These high stakes wit a runnin' mate
 Takin' it to another climate
 For those that ever try to draw me
 Rent em off to Bombay
 Feelin my way
 Fuck you in the hallway
 My rhyme pays
 'Sides Bombay
 My Do or Die day nigga
 Livin it up
 Im givin' it up
 For my niggas that been tearin shit up
 Nigga What
[Chorus] 2x
 [AP-9]
 I been doin this shit since '89
 They still hatin' on debatin' on tryin' to play P-9
 I see fakers on then its on
 Wanna spray P-9?
 All around my neck strapped tough flee
 For the niggas that wanna touch me
 Tryin' to fuck me
 Wit' no vasoline
 I get the gasoline
 For niggas that's after me
 5 G's is what I need on the M-I-C
 Half a that before I breathe on
 Niggas like you get peed on
 So speed on
 And be gone
 To the cut with your fleet on
 Or all of your teeth gone
 Missin
 No description until we bust
 And you didn't listen
 Rollin' wit the funk I think I bust cuz im thug livin'
 Never give in
 Nothin'
 But takin' the bacon wit no mistakin'
 I got some killas
 On the pay roll
 In day low
 When it's time to handle business
 Never miss it
 Nigga lay low
[Chorus] 2x
Fades out










