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Cappadonna - Текст песни We Got This
F/ Lounge Mode, Pike, Remedy
 [Intro: Pike]
 Yo, hold up, yo you know what..
 S.I., Staten Island, niggaz, yo, yo
 [Pike]
 Ain't no more talkin' money or fame
 I'm stalkin' this game, and when I'm done
 I'm stickin' the fork in this game and run clutchin' my gun
 Name P.I., place S.I., N.Y.C
 Caramel papi chulo, mammies vena que
 Let's see if you could stop me
 I beat it like a one man posse, I leave it wet and sloppy
 I'm cocky, at times laid back, like to keep my fade back
 A lot of niggaz about to get paid back (HOOOOO!)
 Because a lot cats that don't like me
 I guess they thought I took it lighty
 But I rhyme and make you niggaz wanna fight me
 I'll melt a nigga like a icey, and wipe 'em up with a towel
 Still on the prowl, how bout? It's Staten Isle, I'm foul
 The same time I got respect for what's real
 Who said Staten Island niggaz ain't real?
 You dead wrong, and took you tied up with a red thong
 For goin' against The Struggle
 We squeeze on the team, crash your huddle
 [Lounge Mode]
 Well I'm known in the hood like Castellano
 You could see me in the fiddy, puffin' H. Armano
 Doin' eighty on the Belt', follow signs to Verrazano
 I keep two guns in my hood like paisano
 My style iller than ill, I'm sick like Alzheimer's
 A bugged cat, ready to bring back old drama
 If it wasn't for the Slash, what could I tell mamma
 God damn, it's bad blood between brick and the mud (HOOOOO!)
 Brick and the thugs, shittin' on love
 Turned over on the newest, start spittin' the snub
 My flow is nice and I ain't worried about them hoes at night
 For my wife and seeds, gotta get this dough shit right
 I'm analyzin', a look how the pro's get ripe
 And number 16, yeah, I want it showin' the lights
 I rep the hood, gotta respect the good
 Even the ones that left the hood, bitch!Cappadonna - We Got This - http://ru.motolyrics.com/cappadonna/we-got-this-lyrics.html
 [Chorus: Lounge Mode (all) w/ ad-libs]
 Car hard suits, Timb boots and millimeters
 (We got this, we got this)
 Hoes and fancy cars and smokin' reefers
 Cellies and beepers (we got this)
 Hoodies and sneakers (we got this)
 [Remedy]
 Yo, it's the smoked out white boy back on the block
 With the thirty eight snubbed nosed, tucked in his sock
 From the H-Block, Huegonaut, part of the rock
 Shaolin, Staten Isle, and I love hip hop
 And when it comes to the kid, man, shit ain't easy
 I Lounge with the Cappa D. and L.O. Beezy (I see you!)
 You sees me? Yeah, yo, believes me
 The Code:Red for life click, racoons need me
 Duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh, I got this
 Rock this, radio drop this
 The Code:Red's for real, yo, you can't stop this
 None of ya'll muthafuckas out there could block this
 Jumped in the whips, all dipped down low
 Ready for a trip, to where, I don't know
 No matter where we go, you can't stop the flow
 The heat's on, gun's drawn, what's up, yo?
 [Cappadonna]
 Aiyo, my spit never tasted good, I'm sour
 I spit for the money and I spit for power
 Then I lean on ya'll like the Eiffel Tower
 And to my Staten Isle niggaz, that's my heart
 I might leave for a minute, but could never depart
 Yeah, I'm married to this bitch and I'm still fuckin'
 I'm in the hood where the guns is nothin'
 And niggaz don't say shit, like E.F. Hutton
 Paranoid like Bush, press the button
 Don't make me grab the boomers and get disgustin'
 Poppy Wardrobe King, Code:Red Production
 Pillage for life niggaz, the hoes that's crushin'
 To all my niggaz that went out bustin'
 Grindin', the black Timbs on, wild out, hustlin'
 (We got this, we got this)
[Chorus]












