Текст песни Pharoahe Monch - Simon Says

Boiler Room - OST / Бойлерная - Саундтрек
Жанр: Rap / Hip-Hop
Исполнитель: Pharoahe Monch
Альбом: Boiler Room - OST / Бойлерная - Саундтрек
Длительность: 02:55
Рейтинг: 2382
MP3: Скачать
Загрузил: dkey9


[Pharoahe Monch] GET THE FUCK UP! Simon says "GET THE FUCK UP!" Throw ya hands in the sky (buck buck buck buck buck!) Queens is in the back sippin 'Gnac, y'all wassup? Girls, rub on your titties (yeah) Yeah fuck it I said it rub on ya titties New York City gritty committee, pity the fool that act shitty In the midst of the calm, the witty [Lady Luck] Yo SHUT THE FUCK UP! Luck said "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Bitches in the back, like crack get it cut up I speak on behalf of them broads you call stuck up Act like a man and get cocked, smacked or fucked up Pull the truck up, Luck you know the name Assed out in the bleachers stay shittin on the game I suppose what you're spittin is flames, cowards Know your crew was vaginal, I could smell the dooch powder Summer's Eve, I drop degrees chill Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill Stay fly till you air sick, now that's ill Two choices, either squeeze or peel, now that's real [Pharoahe Monch] WHAT THE FUCK'S goin on here, just a minute now, hold up Sinister wit hit the time I diminish him finish him, roll up When I'm, ? cinematography state of mind My rap trip, rip, clip, say the rhyme Shit, I spectacular run hit spit bitches venacular Miraculous rhyme flow, back track to the Immaculate Binaca blast nigga that's fast, son I'll box ya Ladies rub the ta-ta's, bras, titties and knockers on the floor OWWW! Fellas pull ya cock out On the verge to splurge verbs for third round knock out Uh I bust a rhyme that dust frustrated rappers Dust crush competition, lights out like the Clapper The mic ripper, whip a nigga like a slave Separate him from him from his fam, he don't know how to behave Now, drag his ass, bag dun for his loot Figure me to give a nigger-y twenty-one gun salute That's seven shots for Tupac Seven for Biggie Smalls Seven for Freaky Tah up in your neighborhood malls How's that, fat action packed rap remain tame Pharoahe fuckin Monch, ain't a damn thing changed [Redman] Yo yo get the fuck up Funk Doctor Spot said "Get the fuck up" I got a bitch named Nina and I tuck her I leave a nigga hangin like ya mom's muffler Snuff her, then my boys follow up Respect like the Fonze, you see the collar up I spit out a bullet, load the barrel up I kamikaze ya town off a Arab bus Karat cut, yeah mami pull over I bend ya pussy like for years I knew yoga I'm too smoked up, I can't remember me Off Hennesy, that's why I carry Mini-Me I need fifty feet when my performance starts I push a armored car wit ?Lauren Harts? Nineteen inches, I'm not on the charts Doc turnin dark off a warning shot Drive off and pop, six in ya hood [Monch] Fuck the limelight, we rhyme tight, plus snatch the goods Yea-yeah my nigga, one rhyme you fold over I'm hot-headed cuz I walk wit cold shoulders Yeah GET THE FUCK UP! [Pharoahe Monch] Simon Says "GET THE FUCK UP!" Throw ya hands in the sky (buck buck buck buck buck!) [Redman] Jersey in the back jackin cars now wassup! Girls, rub on ya titties (Yeah) That's right I said it, rub on ya titties Brick City gritty committee Pity the fool that act shitty, in the midst of the calm, the witty [Method Man] Yo yo get the fuck up Yo yeah I said it, get the fuck up Walk through Shaolin after dark, you get stuck up Seek and destroy, baddest boy when I'm puffed up Ya know my name, and Pharoahe Moch, why we came what? We off the chain, plus we plottin on the chain, what? Know ya role, by the way tuck ya gold And you and your mic can ease on down the road Assholes are like opinions, everybody got to have one Shootin in the sky tryin to blast sun Zero to sixty in a second, pull a fast one Fifty cent flashin they hate us wit a pass
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