Letra Record label murder de Paris

Original

Valorar esta letra:

'calificación: 0.0/10 - Votos en total: 0

Cambio de vídeo(1 de 3)

Record label murder

Verse 1:
Now what would you do if I blast
All up in your shit mother fuck the whole staff
Niggas non flow nine millimeter 'shit than slug?
I'm seeing bloody bodies on the motherfucking rug
6 O'clock be the time if it's on let it be
You see it in my eyes riding through hella deep sea
Bitch you ain't gone do me like you did the lenchmob
I'm decorated in this game I played too motherfucking long
Now I ain't gotta name nobody name
All I'm knowing is the whole fucking roster is complaining
Talking 'bout these white boys trying to do promotions
And white bitches trying to get fuck by these soldiers
Talking wit that slang like you down but now hold on
Seen that ass enough to get your devil ass stoled on
Fucking wit the wrong nigga, playing wit my cash
I'm known for putting devils on they motherfucking back
Blast through the front door, what the fuck, I'm 'posed to talk
Fuck court, I'll be a dead nigga 'fore you walk
Blaow, now the nine had no motherfuckng mercy
So who the sexy nigga, bitch, record label murder

Chorus: (girl sings in background: Record Label Murder... That nigga ???? is serious, better have a nigga money, or next time your ?pay?...)
Now we fit to start some shit
Motherfucker shoulda quit
Out for each and every dime, seem like every time
I turn around, some jacky motherfucker trying to take what's mine
Got the whole fucking clique
Now we fit to start some shit
Got these niggas out the zoo for the job
Bow down or motherfucker you can die when we start robbing

Verse 2:
So many times I've seen these niggas fucked up out they chips
'Cause they didn't know the game, only making 10 percent
Dealing wit these fucking jews, now you losing everytime
How many (girl sings in background: The County Line) platinum niggas standing in the county line
Make you want to get your brick and snatch his ass up out the car
Baby renegotiate, fucking wit them scars
Now you asking who I'm talking 'bout, homie you could pick
This whole industry got niggas' shit on whitey dick
And now, since I'm a soldier known to speak my fucking mind
I'ma put you up on game everytime I start to rhyme
Fuck that devil, get your own man, learn about some shit
Or be another broke nigga telling what he did
And now I think you know that I really gives a fuck
Fear no evil cause I'm God let that the devil try his luck
Last man standing up for the truth, say you heard it
These players getting played homie, record label murder

Chorus

Gracias porque corrigió esta letra

artistas*

canciones*

email*

suscribirse al boletín

letra*

Verse 1:  
 Now what would you do if I blast  
 All up in your shit  mother fuck the whole staff  
 Niggas non flow  nine millimeter 'shit than slug?  
 I'm seeing bloody bodies on the motherfucking rug  
 6 O'clock be the time  if it's on  let it be  
 You see it in my eyes riding through hella deep sea  
 Bitch you ain't gone do me like you did the lenchmob  
 I'm decorated in this game  I played too motherfucking long  
 Now  I ain't gotta name nobody name  
 All I'm knowing is the whole fucking roster is complaining  
 Talking 'bout these white boys trying to do promotions  
 And white bitches trying to get fuck by these soldiers  
 Talking wit that slang like you down but now hold on  
 Seen that ass enough to get your devil ass stoled on  
 Fucking wit the wrong nigga, playing wit my cash  
 I'm known for putting devils on they motherfucking back  
 Blast through the front door, what the fuck, I'm 'posed to talk  
 Fuck court, I'll be a dead nigga 'fore you walk  
 Blaow, now the nine had no motherfuckng mercy  
 So who the sexy nigga, bitch, record label murder  
  
 Chorus: (girl sings in background: Record Label Murder... That nigga ???? is serious, better have a nigga money, or next time your ?pay?...)  
 Now we fit to start some shit  
 Motherfucker shoulda quit  
 Out for each and every dime, seem like every time  
 I turn around, some jacky motherfucker trying to take what's mine  
 Got the whole fucking clique  
 Now we fit to start some shit  
 Got these niggas out the zoo for the job  
 Bow down or motherfucker you can die when we start robbing  
  
 Verse 2:  
 So many times I've seen these niggas fucked up out they chips  
 'Cause they didn't know the game, only making 10 percent  
 Dealing wit these fucking jews, now you losing everytime  
 How many (girl sings in background: The County Line) platinum niggas standing in the county line 
Make you want to get your brick and snatch his ass up out the car  
 Baby renegotiate, fucking wit them scars  
 Now you asking who I'm talking 'bout, homie you could pick  
 This whole industry got niggas' shit on whitey dick  
 And now, since I'm a soldier known to speak my fucking mind  
 I'ma put you up on game everytime I start to rhyme  
 Fuck that devil, get your own man, learn about some shit  
 Or be another broke nigga telling what he did  
 And now I think you know that I really gives a fuck  
 Fear no evil cause I'm God let that the devil try his luck  
 Last man standing up for the truth, say you heard it  
 These players getting played homie, record label murder  
  
 Chorus