название:

Gunplay


автор:

Rick Ross


жанры: rap
альбомы: Deeper Than Rap
рейтинг: ★★★★★ / 5 / 1034 просмотра
[Rick Ross:]
If Michael Jackson came alive right now,
He'd ask you to smoke one for him.
So in his honor.
You niggas Spud Webb, comin' up short,
Think you're Dee Brown, jump if you want.
I put it on my momma and her very last nerve,
Ricky Madoff, everything I deserve.
The square root of a kilo is me, nigga,
The square root of a kilo is me, nigga,
Do the math, I'm a mothafuckin' G, nigga!

[Gunplay:]
It's all on me now, as you can see now
I'm gon' get this money and I will not be denied,
Been shittin' on you fucks a long time, time to pee now.
When you finish first
They hate you worse, startin' to see now,
I'm at the round table, where your seat at?
Where your plate, where your lobster, where your sea bass?
We ain't never left, actin' like we back,
You should see us now takin' pictures actin' like we rap.
This the circle that'll murk you, blackout, short circuit,
Somebody show them square ass niggas the first exit,
This here reserved for soldiers most definitely,
So watch what you say and where you step more carefully.
If I fall in the field and ain't no more air for me,
Pour some on the ground and put one in the air for me.
Tell my enemies, fuck ‘em, they know already but fuck ‘em,
Tell ‘em again with a middle finger and a chuckle,
You don't know, nann nigga, nope.
This famous that'll still throw copper,
Cross so heavy crack the tabernacle,
Fire the ganja back up,
Throw some blow in my tobacco,
Then crank the ‘Lac up.
One match left, this the last turn,
Santeria candles in my sanctuary burn,
Imma earn till the last court adjourn,
Till the last gavel drop, we gon' have it locked,
We gon' have it locked,
We gon' have it locked.

[Stalley:]
I'm part of the small percentage of niggas who make it out the ghetto,
But niggas tried to pull me back
‘cause misery loves company.
It's funny how they come for me,
When they see me livin' comfortably,
But when I was broke and sleepin' on floors
They ain't want nothin' from me.
My future's so bright but my past so ugly,
And I just try to correct it all, but it all still haunts me,
Tried to section off the past but it still haunts me,
So I accept what got me here,
Reflectin' in this rockin' chair.
All this space created, all that hard work it got me here,
So what, I look like tellin' a nigga that I shouldn't be here.
Power to the people, so the people shouldn't live in fear,
And I'll be that raisin' voice and tell the people treat us fair.
Warrin' in the streets, tell them soldiers to meet us there,
Out in the open all alone, I felt the coldest air,
Secluded in my thoughts in fear,
No one to talk to, no one there,
Not even a voice, not even an ear,
No one alive, no one to care.
Now I got a power circle, now I'm on a power trip,
And they callin' me counterfeit ‘cause I ain't gave a coward shit.
Stone me, throw me a pile of shit but you won't pull me out of it,
It's funny how it comes, full circle.
Now they wanna be a part of the power circle,
They wanna be a part of the power circle.

[Wale: x2]
May the wind be at your back.
May the bad be in your past.
May the kids take all your good,
And your wife have class,
And you realize your goals,
And what's life without grind?
Those niggas, yo niggas?
Hope, those niggas real as mine.

[Wale:]
There's a difference between underrated and hasn't made it,
Once you successful
They relentlessly givin' you hatred.
There's no applause for ya and success is hard for ya,
There's enemies, envy with green, my niggas, lawnmower,
And I'm on tour, Jordan Four's, Tom Ford,
And I ain't thuggin', they clappin' at me a encore.
Got a dark heart, bright mind, make women crazy,
I give her D, I throw up two,
I call that shit a safety.
Shit is crazy when entertainment ain't entertainin',
And my inner sanctum need real estate,
I'm out my cabeza.
Jealousy's for the weak, you ain't happy I made it,
I be feelin' like brother Malcolm – just out of the Nation.
Allah got us ‘cause if we hollered, a lost numbers,
I seen hustlers turn cluckers out niggas grandmothers,
So shut the fuck up and listen: fuck all them stuck up musicians!
My circle small but regardless, my circumference official,
My clothes different like quarterbacks at a closed scrimmage.
They gon' blitz us but ain't no way that they gon' hit us,
I'm so elusive, so my niggas be goin' through it.
Guess, it's a wrap when your co-defendant make soul music,
Cash rule the world – at least it do with girls,
At least it do with churches; seek the truth and true it hurts,
If they real, then they real, my niggas deserve it.
And we don't deal with weak squares in this power circle,
We don't deal with weak squares in this power circle.

[Meek Mill:]
I'm like, "Welcome to the power circle!"
I came a long way, I started with a powdered circle,
Clique full of real niggas,
That'll probably murk you
‘Cause they about that murder game, you do a lot of verbal,
Lotta talkin', lotta tweetin'
Till you hear that chopper speakin'.
Kill my dawg – I kill your dawg, we tied even, I'd believe it.
If you see it then you got it, nigga, never give up,
‘Cause if you grindin' you gon' be rich before you can look up;
My cousin Knock told me never teach niggas to cook up,
‘Cause you can sell ‘em
Hard for the low and give ‘em the hookup,
And still make the profit.
The streets say I'm the hottest and a nigga still modest,
I'm just bein' honest.
Back to the wall, never let ‘em get behind us,
Mac in my draws fittin' right in my designers,
Look at my persona: I dreamed it, woke up and conquered,
And there was commas after commas, I eat ‘em like Benihanas.
Put the shrimp over the pasta, the pasta over the lobster,
And the lobster over the table; power circle a mafia.
Just talkin' money, talkin' money, what you talkin' bout?
Probably talkin' bout us, we the only thing to talk about,
‘Cause we the only thing to talk about,
‘Cause we the only thing to talk about.

[Kendrick Lamar:]
Look inside the eyes of the last Mohicans survived,
You won't last a weekend outside.
Seen a pastor tweakin', then sunk his teeth in a rock his demise,
Later on that evening you heard the grievin' of angels that cried,
See a demon don't compromise.
And so I walk alone with a cross and a diamond stone,
I'm a diamond inside the rough,
That's too mighty for maricons;
I might as well put all my killers in YSL,
Put my voice on this microphone, put you pussy niggas through hell.
Hell's fire, I never lie, you will never grind,
I know the priors they runnin' by us
When we do crime,
I know that section eight wanna discontinue my mom's,
When they heard that Ohio State gave me 30 racks in July.
Oh Lord, this can't be life, no it can't be life!
When they day breaks and you earned them stripes,
And you learned that strike.
From upstate will adjourn that life and confirm that life,
It's good bait for the warden that might get awarded and write.
Now your fate can record it, denied a reporter replied,
The death rate will eventually climb, so eventually I'm
On a track race for the dough, before time get a clock that resigns.
So about face if it ain't business, I get offended, I mind,
Now one fake, I'm a realist in strive,
I'm a billion in five,
Well, a billion ‘cause the limit is the sky and I live on cloud nine,
And I recognize my nemesis gon' try to put a finish in my shine,
But, pussy, we'll hurt you,
Life in the power circle.

[Rick Ross:]
Regardless of how it goes down.
Life goes on, am I right?
Tried to warn you niggas,
I tried to warn you niggas,
It's too late now.
Double M, G.
Too much cake,
Too much power,
Too much respect,
Bow down, nigga!
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Это интересно:Rick Ross, наст. имя Уильям Леонард Робертс Второй (англ. William Leonard Roberts II, 28 января 1976 Кэрол-Сити, Флорида) — американский хип-хоп исполнитель. Создатель звукозаписывающего лейбла Maybach Music Group, который с 2008 года входит в состав Def Jam Recordings.Когда Росс учился в старших классах средней школы Кэрол-Сити, он играл в американский футбол, а позднее учился на футбольную стипендию в Государственном... продолжение
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