AWA

PA Nigga

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  • 2001.11.13
  • 4:23
AWAで聴く

歌詞

[Verse One: Bun B] Man, I been feelin' caged in They try to stop us shackled us and dropped us Tacklers, sackers, no propers, just smack us Floppers, pro-tractors, ho-hoppers attack us Broke crackers, no actors just coppers with choppers With random and ?ricos? With cameras and peep holes Can't stand us, we chose the scandalous, who planned this your people? Fuck that you hero bucked at by weavels, and muskrats to seagulls Touch that to bank rolls and c-notes to stank hoes and beagles Drunk folks, clay folks, gay folks now we go to peep holes Moving stars required, (?) nevermind my appearance Leave your insurance for your clearance Bitch, I roll for gun for endurance not a gimmick, nigga this ain't "Mommy Dearest" A lot a said and clearing the closest and the freshest This is that underground shit from Port Arson, Texas [Chorus: Bun B] I'm a PA nigga, trill ass nigga, how the fuck you figure you can buck me down nigga I don't fuck around nigga I'm from the underground nigga Keep a bad yellow bitch that can fuck me down nigga I'm a PA nigga, trill ass nigga, how the fuck you figure you can buck me down nigga I don't fuck around nigga I'm from the underground nigga Keep mack up in my shit for my fucking pound nigga what? [Verse Two: Pimp C] I'm a big body flipper, syrup sipper I keep two bitches so they call me Jack Tripper Three years coming it, four as a rider Only room for one dick bitch when I'm knocking you down Got that dope by the pound, red jag on the ground You can hear when I'm comin because I'm bangin' surround And I'm getting my paper, so bitch fuck what you heard My niggas ready to hit it they just wait for the word Sell pipes and birds, water and herb, but not on the corner because my ho self-serve When I'm ridin' the city, my car might swerve My vision be blurred but I don't hit the curb I got rich in the ghetto with my microphone Everything I ride on wood and chrome Ever since "Big Pimpin" I've been seeing the clones Now everybody on they videos doing a sweet Jones [Chorus] [Verse Three: Bun B] We runnin' through this rap game in break-neck speed, break-neck speed Blocks like begs please your lex keys Your checks freeze, your bank account shut down over seas And both of these and toke of these while blowin' trees with cloves of G's Move over please, make room for elbows we sell folks we sell those Felons in jail clothes, it get sticky like Velcro, gently rub her semen Women get tied up in scotch tape, now watch fate take it up a notch Wait, a hot date? baddies boppin under the sun, get blunted with Bun This summer we shun all inhibitions No wonder we gunnin, now watch a stunner become a livin' landmark Hands spark like (?) leave your plans dark Mercury, glistening fuck who dissing it Diss me, can't miss me just can't relate bitch, this my history date No driven for this we wait, to determine 'till eternally burning Quote my destiny, child you're learning it? [Chorus]

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