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Clint Black % Lisa Hartman Black - Текст песни M.O.B
(*talking*)
 Uh, ha, straight up, Sensei ha
 2000 and 2 ha, ha
 It go down, S.U.C. for real
 Mobstyle for life, uh nigga
 [Chorus - 2x]
 And it's M.O.B., money
 Over bullshit, you know me
 Keep it low key, what a nigga told me
 A nigga don't know, what a nigga don't see
 [Big Pokey]
 In this rap game I come, from the back of the pack
 Now they respect my work, like I'm packing a mack
 Everytime I sound check, I'm cracking the deck
 On track split wigs, like a x in the hat
 You know how I act in the Lac, I'm a hog
 T.V.'s back in the back, got to fall
 Texas boys crawl, like a nigga with his legs cut
 K bullets hit niggas, and they edge up
 Pay attention, focus nigga
 Third, Fourth and Fifth Ward rogus nigga
 4-4, Southwest vaulters nigga
 Better have that on your mind, when you approach us nigga
 A bitch'll jump fly, when they dose your hitter
 You G about it, be about it, you supposed to get her
 I get a broad pimp of grain, I need to be in the Pimp of Fame
 They think it's hard, but it's simple man
[Chorus - 2x]
 [Big Pokey]
 I'm a gangsta, and I'm out of control
 Drink wrecking ice cold, but my vaults on swoll
 Pay the toll when you pass, it's the bill collectorClint Black % Lisa Hartman Black - M.O.B - http://ru.motolyrics.com/clint-black-lisa-hartman-black/mob-lyrics.html
 Cocaine disector, come with Hannibal Lector
 Tell the visual projector, when I'm watching a flick
 I reckon need to had your chick, cause I got paper to get
 Hundred miles per hour, slowing down my viders
 Stampede the stateline, flood the booth with powder
 I'm balling nigga, three hundred-sixty degrees
 In the streets shedding cheese, you better recognize g's
 Hollow T-I-P's, choppers and barettas
 Fucking with my cheddar, I wet up niggas sweaters
 Young in the game, crunching on niggas like ab work
 And I'ma chase my paper stacks, till my calves hurt
 Feel that, take it from a real cat
 Or be a fool run up, and get your wig peeled back
[Chorus - 2x]
 [Big Pokey]
 Pay attention cause you listening, to one of the rawest
 Cold as a meat locker, which as being I'm flawless
 Attitude hoggest, mentality doggest
 I pimp my bone, once from August to August
 I'm an animal, in the booth I'm a cannibal
 With a appetite like Hannibal, bitch I'm flammable
 I'm bout to lock it up, beneath the key
 S-E-N-S-E-I, that's me
 Get ready for three minutes, of constant head rushing
 Crushing mice, it's a verbal head busting
 I'm a mic ripper, plus a motherfucking bike flipper
 When I'm on the damn mic nigga
 I'm the real deal, like Evander
 Something boys really can't handle, pull my scandal
 Uh, uncut cocaine
 Putting pressure on your brain, man
[Chorus - 4x]










