Swang Down (feat. Mike D & Mr. 3-2)

歌詞

(*talking*) Yo, you done tuned into radio Boss Hogg Corleone Yeah that's right, Miggity Mike D and I'm back Yeah 60 days out the Penn, putting it on you niggaz shoulders Like it go you know I'm saying, My Gift to the World My Gift to the World, from the Don Corleone is to bless you With all the greatest hits I done been on, you know I'm saying Skeet taste you, for that Hoggin Da Game come out Cause I'm fin to put it in your face, Corleone Family Entertainment Baby, we fin to take over this thang for the 2 triple 0-4 you smell me (Hook - 2x) Swing down, sweet chariots let me ride Coming down slow, on the damn Southside Swanging on 4's, slamming on do's Gripping your hoe, that's the way it goes (Fat Pat) It's the big sugar daddy, bailing none other Coming down with blunt, in the red and peanut butter Naw I didn't stutter, popping trunks surround Coming down slow, watch a playa what clown On the Boulevard, yeah my swangas we'll mob I'm coming down the Boulevard, swanging on them hard Me and C.B., got the T.V. on Got my glock in my lap, riding till dawn Man it's all goody, hit the parking lot Pop trunk red neon, it don't stop Watching hoes bop, cause we on that glass C.B. crawling, yeah I got on my mask With my Sacci looks, ready to let my pistol smoke Cause up in the C, and I'm gone off that dope Leaning on the drank, so what you think I got my hand on my glock, plus I got my shank (Hook - 2x) (Mike D) I swang on dots, floss on chops Hit the scene beat it up, like a boiling crock pot Dipping so low, in the Jag cockpit Got my paws frostbit, with six screens lit Feeling like the shit, mobbing on twin Z's Pat in front of the Lac, I'm in the J-A-G Sipping a skeet taste, with a cannon on my waste Iceberg to the drawas, putting it all in your face Shocking and body rocking, swanging side to side Crawling wide body, with Palomino inside Tell I'm a 84 glider, on the block glider Catch me and 3 in the Pathfinder, with diamonds that'll blind you Smoking on sticky, sipping lean in my machine Through the parking lot crawling, hogging dogging the scene With my mug on mean, working sixteen Swanging on you boys, fulfilling ghetto dreams (Hook - 2x) (Mr. 3-2) Lumilean to Eddies, money over bop hoes My Diablo, and see six zeros Niggaz sturn like 84's, and switch like kids Gotta move around, cause they'll put it in your ears Still sipping but no beer, check up in my styrofoam In H-Town Texas, my home sweet home The Governor and Corleone, P-A-T resurrected Vote for Mr. 3-2, to be reelected Me Mafia connected, with the streets on lock Entertaining my peoples, on the fifty foot yacht I move a big body out to, bending corners turning heads From the Boulevard MLK, to the blocks of Homestead We flossing and flipping turning, tipping so low Beating the trunk, and dropping the top real slow Letting the world feel it, realest from the Gulf Coast We swang down up on the block, body rock with my folks (Hook - 2x) (*scratching*)