Was this in them trees These are the things They held me vision Seein' more things Me and DJ Paul We got the hook off We gon' stee We gon' play socidal to go slappin' through thy window Somethin's creepin' up slow It was a Lodus Read about a hoe Some sippin' on the women Who gon' want to cross my fules, attention Not only was you weak Need another nigga drivin' I stop the car Said do you want to buck em' Rough Koopsta Shirt I knew your hurt Take the bridge back Take a bag with them slugs Sentence see your gone son Devils in your Chris It's the coulda me dree z's Koopsta got em' stee Make prophet me See that's what you get for talkin' shit Trick I drop you in the splunder Cut you up like Jerry Springer biatch
Come, come who the fuck They want some Niggas want to jump, jump Get'cha make ya pump, Paul Still gon' miss ya bump, bump Off a nigga fakin' Goin' to a richin' Bitches turn to shaken Mafioso rule by And he will act a fool when he don't give a damn If your fuckin' red or blue boy Couldn't buy the wet slide Goin' on this best lide Lord Infamous done with tight When me gotta get mine You know what I want But do Koopsta gets it Storm on this bitch Like some new used confetti Astronomical Triple 6 Writes space on top of astroids Comin' to rip up the shore We killin' the fool So act a fool boy
Chorus x4 Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp (lay at, move his ass down to the pump)
How long gon' go deep In the North When niggas stay drunk And smoke on your portch From on my streets Wit all only peeps I used to scratch And throw down beats I made a mix With real deep bass The noise I had to be slangin' tapes DJ in this shit try to make that shit Tone be speakers that stack they crates Studio 9 was the place to be Where all jocks were tryin' to get The chance get on the tape Bein' a fool Keep tryin' i'm not goin' to quit The club was packed from wall to wall The gangsta walk is what we call Whn niggas are buckin' I'm still gonna dance The third a fool Let's look if all We took the club And show no love Just throw in our face And gettin' refunds They might wanna fight Later on the night Cause Memphis playas don't give a fuck Security junk We smack the punks For throwin' us out For smokin' a blunt The number ones on It just cam on And now it's time to fuckin' stomp
Juicy's in the motherfuckin' house It's the peel yo Motherfuckin' stand back It's they fuckin' steelo On your fuckin' ass We can't fuckin' brag Cause we comin' up Robbers on my ass Should I blast Cause they runnin' up Maybe it's my premadin' No present turn to yo With the sayin' Saw your nine Boy I call that kick door I stick those Bitches in my trunk And now we back to my hood Don't want the left they die yet But he wishin' he would Wasn't in the mood For this bunk shit But these niggas had to creep That boy they stupid I sit, I leave these hoes for a permanent sleep And now we out the club We gotta get em' up Triple 6 and Prophet Posse Ya'll know we make em' stomp
Chorus x4Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
