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Little River Band - Текст песни Last Alternative
Hook:
 Ain't no use in throwin' blows
 I just wanna smoke you hoe
 Ain't no use in throwin' blows
 I just wanna smoke you hoe
 Ain't no use in throwin' blows
 I just wanna smoke you hoes
 I just wanna smoke you hoe
 Ain't no use in throwin' blows
 (2x)
 [Verse 1: Tommy Wright III]
 Hollow points spray, everyday, all day, till the day that I fuckin' die
 Street sweep through the hood wid my nigga Kiki in the wood
 wid the ooze, hangin' out the sunroof doin' drive-by,
 You survive, that's a lie, fifty niggas standin' on the corna
 watchin' every muthafuckn' move you make,
 Some perpetrate, shootin' ball on crate,
 Got rocks in they socks, NARCs come nigga break
 Bullet penetrate, in a nigga face not payin'
 Tryna fuck wid Tommy Wright don't fight just blast,
 Last nigga died, when he tried, pimpin' big,
 got killed, blood spilled, dump they body in a field
 B-I-G woulda probably gave you "One More Chance"
 But not me, on my tone, get the phone
 Dial 911 and reserve you a ambulance
 Bustas braggin', eye cappin' lyin' bout who they done put to rest
 Prove it to me, do a street sweep,
 Put a hole in a nigga chest that forgot to wear a bullet proof vest,
 Bloody mess and bloody sink, bloody hands, bloody pants
 Wasn't shit different when I moved in South Memphis
 for the nigga millimetre for they broad got pimpin'
 Lampin' on the track wid ah handful ah rocks
 and ah Ziploc glock on safe, gotta watch UFO, undercover 5-0,
 Still on parole can't catch another case,
 Creepin' night Tommy Wright, no street lights in the hood
 go to war with the world if I gotta,
 Roll up ya sleeves, put ya dukes up and bleed,
 Tommy Wright don't fight, wrong move, ratter-tatter
Hook (1x)
 [Verse 2: La Chat]
 Hoppin' on these bitches, leavin' 'em wid stitches
 Reason why I do these funky hoes,
 If you bitches got some anna bring the shit on
 cause La Chat still won't go,
 Cappin' all these suckas, fillin' these bustas
 Shoot 'em to the ground wid my nine that I tote
 Bitches wanna test my motherfuckin' pimpin'
 Best believe that's a motherfuckin' lesson hoe
 Beatin' these bitches to the ground,
 That's my hobby I like to do,
 Busta ass hoe got a glock at her side
 Betta pull it cause she got no other choice but to shoot,
 Threaten my fuckin' life hoe that's a no no you lil silly hoe,
 You one hoe, that I know that done know,
 that your stupid ass gotta vamp gotta go,
 Evil signs I do not see, it's just the hatred in my blood
 It's just me when I feel the need I'm poppin' them motherfuckin' slugs
 Bitch I am the scandalous I do not play them silly games
 Never plan to fall will we put none ah these bustas lemon lamesLittle River Band - Last Alternative - http://ru.motolyrics.com/little-river-band/last-alternative-lyrics.html
 Know this anna's on my mind, it keep me doin' a fuckin' crime
 Never like caught, slippin' bitch, I bet I keep my fuckin' nine
 Got some anamosity, here's my fuckin' do' key
 Get that shit up off your chest
 My 20 guage track will handle the rest
Hook (1x)
 [Project Pimp]
 I gotta be makin' that cash, the bigga my stash
 I put on my halloween mask,
 Time to go trick or treat, fold up them swisher sweets
 Makin' them lemons lay down in the grass
 My weapon I'm grippin' ain't no time for slippin'
 The Pimp and I'm all about makin' that cheese,
 Robber who robbin' them bitches for riches and dumpin'
 ain't no stoppin till I get some kis,
 Full ah that weed, so I can proceed wid my plans
 and take care my family through problems,
 Hit up my nigga that wanted Li-zo and Terrel
 Some playas who down to go robbin',
 Think that I'm flodgin' don't slip and get killed by them bullets
 that fly from the .45 clip, that cocaine is in my brain
 Got me straight doin' thangs, to them hoe niggas when I catch 'em slip
 No mercy for suckas and bustas when I'm on my hustle
 I take care ah my business off top,
 Regardless whoever that nigga might be
 when I take all his cheese, I bet he get shot, be clippin' that glock,
 It full wid black talon for static I might have to aim on ah low,
 I kick it wid killers, dog dealers, graveniggas
 who squeeze on the triggas, we dumped on 'em low
 [Tommy Wright III]
 Tommy Wright, creep at night, ready to take your fuckin' life,
 Roll them dice, get a side bet
 Tommy best shot betta aim that I get,
 Murder one expert, drinkin' red rum
 Hoe my mouth don't move cause I talk wid ah ooze
 Slip on my gloves, Tommy gots no love
 Two glocks Tommy shot two cops on a rooftop
 Pistol grippers, leavin' y'all bodies in plastic bags wid zippers
 Where I'm from niggas come wid pistols
 Tommy got a tech in the middle ah the street yellin' who's next
 I'm gon' buck 'em, and I'm gon' stuff 'em
 Tommy don't love 'em it was only fuck phonies
 Six feet to me ain't deep
 Can't be seen wid ah dead dope fiend in the passenger seat,
 Really don't give a fuck, nail it to your nuts
 Everyday parlay sun down, sun up
 Niggas don't want no peace so they pack a piece wait,
 Murder show at twelve can't be late,
 Fuck scrappin', Tommy Wright cappin' and dappin'
 when the damage is done, do away wid the gun
 On the run, real billy sippin' O-Z,
 Ten wanted men feelin' deep, trick or treat, fuck tha police
Hook (1x)
 [Tommy Wright III]
 Dig that, Memphis niggas ain't scrappin' no more
 Especially ten wanted men, fuck scrappin' we cappin'
 It's on like cap, BIOTCH!










