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Royce Da 5'9 - Текст песни State Your Name
(D-Elite.. state your naaaame, gangsta!)
 [Tre' Little]
 C'mon, Tre' Little don status, hold my dick
 I came in this game like it's more than rap (c'mon)
 Say ya label push the date back, now that's what you get
 Dog, I'm tryin to destroy the salary cap
 The Source is happy we came six covers, it's covered
 That'll last about May, June, well into the summer
 Why talk about different colors for various Coupes
 Shit green, fart blue, ooh clever you
 Got mami droppin drawers before the first phone call
 Help me ma, I'll take a shot at any one of y'alls
 We some gangstas, study the "Ten Crack Commandments"
 Stay +Big+, and worship "Hail Mary", that's how we live
 Lay low good guys, catch you with a hook I
 know why you lie, ya crew ain't quite like mine
 Spit it like ooh my, these labels like ooh my
 (State your naaaame, gangsta!)
 [Cha Cha]
 It's the C-H-A, say it with me niggaz
 Cha Cha Cha, y'all Cha Cha Cha
 You cannot lie or deny these niggaz ain't rah-rah
 Put the barrel on the bridge of your nose and turn you cock-eyed
 Steppin to us not wise, told you how to get live
 Such threats expect five guys, five tecs
 Go in depth best with the finger next to the index
 Make they gats all sing in unison like a quintet
 They don't say whodi, son, dunn, or young'n
 You can owe 'em and say hi and they greet you like "Hey guy"
 Whattup though Nickel, Jah, Tre', X, and Cut Throat
 My brethrens all veterans all throwin up sevens
 When we rock hits to the sky throw 'em up to the heavens
 Us and crews clash no more, we built the Rapport
 So add a million sold or more is when I get at you whores, uh-huh
 Me and Royce here to restore what we were buildin before
(State your naaaame, gangsta!)
 [Cut Throat]
 Cut Throat, the livin threat street shit the blueprint
 The guideline rappers sideline until they buy mine
 Them little guns y'all blow, I stay on the low (uhh)
 Rap like this and work the scale like so (uhh)
 Take it to the gutter, we could duke or shoot it out
 Switchblades pump gauge, whatever you about
 Burn you to ya hood, we could bang for the work
 For the buildings or the blocks do the thang to the dirt
 I'm a FUCK-in fool, crews DUCK and moveRoyce Da 5'9 - State Your Name - http://ru.motolyrics.com/royce-da-59/state-your-name-lyrics.html
 Stay in a FUCKED up mood, one FUCKED up dude
 When it's hot I, breathe in the heat, don't even sleep
I, be knee-deep in the beats that made me
 Let you know how many fo'-five slugs your gut take
 a certified gangsta specialize in duct tape
 Show your favorite thug how to be a thug, top that nigga
Turn your favorite drug into another drug, cop that nigga
 [Jah 5'9"]
 (State your naaaame, gangsta!)
 Jah da 5'9" speak and shake rhyme great, history's made
 The street gangsta city flow race against time
 You feel the breeze push past, you get a grip
 Never sign for cash, my hustle's the shit {*whoosh*}
 Millennium game, earth tone keep it in range
 Close to the grave I rock, fake niggaz shouldn't doubt us
 Surrounded by crooks, full clips and fine weed
 Choice clothes, on my Bossi, and fine hoes
 Long nights, bust those in small cris'
 Niggaz playin themselves for thinkin we rhyme alike
 How would you fight me, I'm like ten families strong
 Calm gladiator, song navigator
 Manipulation by song, relate to it niggaz
 Henny on the rocks toast to the real, in God we trust
 Them whole blocks got a story to tell
 All of a sudden seasons change, you're welcome
(State your naaaame, gangsta!)
 [Billy Nix]
 Billy Nix, black man is here, listen close
 Spittin, just to niggaz, X address the niggaz
 Most niggaz don't see right, see light like it's darkness
 No offense but your flow's slow and dense
 No guns in sight, no might for the heartless
 We run ya mics, you write like you're retarded
 I know my niggaz hearin the D, ya smellin this
 Didn't know, you shoulda spoke while broke sayin poor
 You spoke that which you wrote while broke yellin rich
 Then Biggie up, "Kick in the Door," play it some more
 This is the evolution of emceein, who dissin us?
 Gettin Rah, stick up nigga, hand me ya listeners
 Get a job we here, D-Elite, touch it
 Matter fact, niggaz is wack, Wall Street fuck it
 X government agent remember yo' name, remember yo' game
 You niggaz won't be spittin the same, motherfucker
(State your naaaame, gangsta!)
My God!











