Nainstalovat Steam
přihlásit se
|
jazyk
简体中文 (Zjednodušená čínština)
繁體中文 (Tradiční čínština)
日本語 (Japonština)
한국어 (Korejština)
ไทย (Thajština)
български (Bulharština)
Dansk (Dánština)
Deutsch (Němčina)
English (Angličtina)
Español-España (Evropská španělština)
Español-Latinoamérica (Latin. španělština)
Ελληνικά (Řečtina)
Français (Francouzština)
Italiano (Italština)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonéština)
Magyar (Maďarština)
Nederlands (Nizozemština)
Norsk (Norština)
Polski (Polština)
Português (Evropská portugalština)
Português-Brasil (Brazilská portugalština)
Română (Rumunština)
Русский (Ruština)
Suomi (Finština)
Svenska (Švédština)
Türkçe (Turečtina)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamština)
Українська (Ukrajinština)
Nahlásit problém s překladem
Where you chillin' for the summer, homie?
(Up in da club)
Jumpin' out the stretch Hummer runnin'
(Up in da club)
Fly ladies from wall to wall
(Up in da club)
With my beats I'm fadin' all-a y'all
(Up in da club)
Can a playa spend his double life
(Up in da club)
Before she shank me with a butter knife
(Up in da club)
Upper level or a lower life
(Up in da club)
Still the same be where we go inside
Murder one style, smash mind states to pebbles
Mental terrorist, specialist at this
Menacin' lyricist, leave crews defenseless
Hand designed landmines lick off like 9's
To paralyze everythin', ears ring like door chimes
Heads start to turn like police who pass
Here to blast, my crew rush through like tear gas
F-ck a mask, we lace the place like the marshals
Sparkle like diamonds, but harmful as car fumes
Reckless rhymes start, relentless, ruckus
And f-ck up the party for you payin' m-th-rf-ck-rs!
Once I commence for you ladies and gents
I kick rhymes sharper than barbwire fence
The live and direct from Killah Hill Projects
Staten Island, New York, you can't help but to hawk
Lay it on you gentle, that's if you want it hostile
Sounds so underground, I write my rhymes on fossils
Tunes like this force me to get you open
Lyrically wet ya up until you're soakin'
Internal bleeding, he felt heat, then cold feet
QBC committee, Ty Nitty, hit the safe
Not anymore, he eats moss.