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"Boot Camp Clik"
"Boot Camp Clik"
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"Boot Camp Clik"
"Boot Camp Clik"
название:
автор:
жанры: rap, hip-hop
альбомы: The Chosen Few
The Chosen Few
автор:
Boot Camp Clik
жанры: rap, hip-hop
альбомы: The Chosen Few
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 5.2 / 1226 просмотров
- Текст
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[ VERSE 1: Starang Wondah ] Hey yo, I remember Paula, a female baller We hit down south, I would call her She was lonely, strippin, had a job at the Shoneys The only one who showed me the real from the phoneys Stayed hangin out with her best friend Tony Eyes stayed red with a head full of pony Always jokin sayin she wish she could clone me Actin all friendly, I hooked her up with Henny [ VERSE 2: Louieville ] Then she told me for me and Foul to come OT You know me, baby girl, show me the money Doin 90 down 95 South If we don't move it out, then the town'll have a drought Pushin, pedal to the metal Once we get there the worries'll get settled Chillin, fallin back for the week with Money that counts and shorty bop's a freak Toast to the dogs in the war The one's who've been there, through rich and the poor This bitch gotta twist up and hit Aiin't that some shit, I gotta ask, ain't that a bitch But a nigga gotta keep the shit rollin Keep the shit potent, Hennyville stay smokin And a nigga ain't crackin no jokes Smackin up your folks Cause a nigga know broke [ VERSE 3: Sean Price ] Hey yo, I rhyme all day, I rhyme all night I got to sleep, wake up, and rhyme some more Starvin like Marvin, niggas screamin, I'm so poor Hit records, bangin videos but I'm so poor Yo, can I hold somethin? I'm fucked up, duke You can tell by my jeans and my scuffed up boots In the meantime, smoke a Newport down to the green line Leave mine alone in the zone tryin to feed mine Know y'all hope Sean fall with the words Fuck you pa, Pope John, call him the Third Follow the god, bitches wanna swallow the god Hit my man off worse than you can polish the god [ Tek ] I told you to walk with me You wanna lose your money, gamble with me But if you all about your paper, hustle with me Then come on Come on Listen Listen [ VERSE 4: Tek ] All I need is one night, one whore, one million dollar score Tell God to look out for one more Matter of fact maybe more than one So I can kick my feet up and sit down my gun Just gimme one line, one role, complete with one lick And one motion, collect it all from 1-6 This a painting of the barrio I'm givin to you Readin a lifestyle a Harry-O see in his views I'm tatted, only God can judge me, I know that I'm ugly Who's my enemies and who don't love me? My young'uns and my family all know that they could Call the crib, same number, same hood, it all good [ VERSE 5: Buckshot ] I say it now like I said it back then Bucktown's the state of mind that I'm trapped in So I walk with the mind of many My mind is designed to put rhymes in lines combined with semis Spray any, plus I got the brain of a soldier My son started but I stay till it's over We click-click-click, it's Hamburger Hill And saving Private Ryan out this bitch I'm tryin to chill but we dyin quick So my tactic to survive is a practice Killin gus with my eyes, so how real am I? And even if I'm finna fly I don't look the part Cause in my hood we seperate the ballers and the crooks apart [ VERSE 6: Steele ] Ghetto livin, parallel to prisons Cursed soul, from hell I've risen We rebel from the system, Bloomberg cuttin millions from children So we resort to the streets, I walk with my peeps OG's responsible for my speech Co-D's make me comfortable enough to preach Tony Montana was deep, we all follow the script Recipe to turn powder to bricks Devour the script, the game the same, the players change Homie, you gotta maintain if you wanna remain Let God give guidance, may the hood provide us With the necessities to get by this Niggas fallin victim to mirages We rep the hardest but the sweat gon' drip regardless Behind enemy lines we chargin The traget: gettin at all you niggas in the market Got trees, spark it, got B's, then park it Bucktown, where all the d's like to hawk us Walk what you talk and gotta stay focused Beware of this rap industry and the hocus pocus Many are called, few are chosen I choose to die for a cause and ride with my soldiers Many are called, few are chosen I choose to die for a cause and ride with my soldiers [ all ] We live for this, we die for this Since some for die for this, we ride for this
Это интересно:Хип-хоп-головы могут не раскалываться от напряжённых поисков надежды на спасение своей веры и культуры. Ведь группа уникальна и практически не имеет аналогов. Объясню почему: в хип-хопе андерграунд и мэйнстрим, oldschool и newschool - это не одно формирование, состоящее из множества МС. В нём есть и не одна семья или объединение - называйте как вам угодно. Но ВСС отличается от первых тем, что создан... продолжение
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