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Raekwon - Текст песни Paisley Darts
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yeah, yo, yeah, yo
 Catch me on yo' brochure with beach balls, at least three whores
 Head wop Queens know how to work they jaws
 They skin tone is coffee and milk, mixed up
 Ass as big as my boss' wife, stomach ripped up
 Spitting liquor in they mouth, cold Moet
 Captain Morgan, taking flicks, posing, holding my tech
 With cowboy hats and coach bags, they party like rock stars
 Bo Gary watches, just chill, they down in the shark bars
 And me, gunslinger, clips, cock D
 My fashion on, I'm rocking 'em new Rasheeds
 I'ma finish ya, go in brother like Mr. Cee
 You could find me fucked up like the mice in cheese
 Life's a B, Bentley and big bills
 Bottles, biscuits, bitches, blunts, bad boys bodying pit bulls
 Karate, black belt and I bring booze
 To big bar brawls, ball games blasting, fuck 'til my balls blue
 We like the black Yankees, old vets who sit in the rest
 Thankful, counting up currency and move when it rain, pour
 From every bitch that we bless, we hit up, automatic love
 The Cuban link niggaz is the realest
 Let my wallet walk, speak to niggaz, cops, judges
 We put it down, Columbian style, with three killas
 Based on money, dummies will die
 It ain't funny, trying to front on mine, we get in ya mommy
 Keep cool, nigga, read him the rules, before he bleeding in pools
 And fuck my shit up, and I'ma just lose
 Paid a lot of paper to live here
 American gangster status, Big Brother, lemme get in ya ear
 You know what time it is, crime it is, no matter what rhyme it is
 We gon' stay fly, hit lye, rock diamond shits
 Based on a general's fist of fury
 Neck, arm, money, all of that's crispy jewelry
 Let me show you how I G ride, Nina on both sides
 Nobody riding shotgun but the four-five
 Nigga, if you won't try, I'll give ya something to regret
 Throw that mothafucking semi to ya neck
 Throw the other black Jimmy to ya chest
 If you budge, you get stretched, nothing more, nothing less
 Pay respect, I'm a element of Homicide Housing
 In other words, bitch, I'm the resident from Homicide Housing
 Known for drug dealing, stack thousandsRaekwon - Paisley Darts - http://ru.motolyrics.com/raekwon/paisley-darts-lyrics.html
 Four hundred grand in the couches, two hundred grand on the houses
 At any time I could move up out this
 And go and cop some shit up in the mountains
 Aiyo, aiyo, you know ya boy stay fresher than produce
 Timberland snow boots, collecting more cream than a toll booth
 I grind daily, patriotic like Tom Brady
 I'm the bomb, baby, 'cuz what I write is beyond crazy
 I'm the Don with the teflon armor, good karma, Mac Palmer
 Call me Arab Diesel 'cuz I'm a track bomber
 Roger that, my niggaz ain't got it cracked
 All we do is dollar stack, get twisted like bottle caps
 While you on the block getting indicted, we island hopping
 Globe trotting through the friendly skies flying United
 There's a party over here and everybody's invited
 The headliners is Theodore and everybody's excited
 Fuck that, 'bout time we took it back to the block
 The task force coming, I got crack in my sock
 White Rock on the dinner plate, get cash, shit is hot
 Smash whips on the Interstate, we dash on the cops
 It's them dudes, drug slingers, 1-6, ooh
 Crime figure, rhyme spitter, his gun spit too
 Call 'em Sex Pistols, ravishing, nigga, I'm Rick Rude
 And ain't many mothafuckas could fit up in Rick's shoes
 Man, listen, ice glisten, they love the life we living
 That's a given, like football players love white women
 White linen, a tight denim, that ass look right in 'em
 Shit, I'm riding 'em, cool as Kahlua's with ice in 'em, shit
 Aiyo, yo, yo, yo, I pass the mic to Cap, nah, I pass it back
 Never, son, hold that, you the master of the rap attack
 So knick knack patty wack, this is how we do it black
 Slap you with the almanac where actual facts is sold as facts
 We on our grown man shit like Quincy Jones
 Traveling across the world while we smoking the bone
 We all here grinding, y'all niggaz know what we do
 We get it in with the Murderland, Chi-town too
 Hit you up, something nice 'til the death of Yakub
 Swagger stuck on ya face like a New Jack tool
 Right back at you, yeah me and my dude Toney
 We'll fuck with fake contracts and niggaz that's phony
 Trying to get this money, right homey
 And lay back in the Riverside, just chill, relax the dome piece
 Link up with a fly dime, brick and a chrome piece
 Coming for that gwop, yeah nigga, you got beef










