Party&bullshit - dela

Party&bullshit - dela

Альбом
Atmosphere Airlines Vol.2
Год
2009
Язык
`Engelska`
Длительность
168550

Nedan finns texten till låten Party&bullshit , artist - dela med översättning

Låttexten " Party&bullshit "

Originaltext med översättning

Party&bullshit

dela

I was a terror since the public school era

Bathroom passes, cutting classes, squeezing asses

Smoking blunts was a daily routine

Since 13, a chubby nigga on the scene

I used to have the trey-deuce

And the deuce-deuce in my bubblegoose

Now I got the Mac in my knapsack

Lounging black, smoking sacks up in Ac’s and Sidekicks

With my sidekicks rocking fly kicks

Honeys want to chat

But all we wanna know is where the party at

And can I bring my gat?

If not, I hope I don’t get shot

Better throw my vest on my chest, cause niggas is a mess

It don’t take nothing but fronting for me to start something

Bugging and bucking at niggas like I was duck hunting

Dumbing out, just me and my crew

Cause all we wanna do is …

Party and bullshit, and party …

Hugs from the honeys, pounds from the roughnecks

Seen my man Sage that I knew from the projects

Said he had beef, asked me if I had my piece

Sure do, two .22's in my shoes

Holler if you need me, love, I’m in the house

Roam and stroll see what the honeys is about

Moet popping, ho hopping, ain’t no stopping Big Poppa, I’m a Bad Boy

Niggas wanna front, who got your back?

(Biggie!)

Niggas wanna flex, who got the gat?

(Biggie!)

It ain’t hard to tell I’m the east coast overdoser

Nigga you scared you’re supposed to

Nigga, I toast you, put fear in your heart

Fuck up the party before it even start

Pissy drunk, off the Henny and skunk

On some Brand Nubian shit beating down punks

Bitches in the back looking righteous

In a tight dress, I think I might just

Hit her with a little Biggie 101, how to tote a gun

And have fun with Jamaican rum

Conversation, blunts in rotation

My man Big Jock got the Glock in his waist and

We’re smoking, drinking, got the hooker thinking

If money smell bad, then this nigga Biggie stinking

Is it my charm?

I got the hookers eating out my palm

She grabbed my arm and said «Let's leave calm»

I’m hitting skins again

Rolled up another blunt, bought a Heineken

Niggas start to loc out, a kid got choked out

Blows was thrown and a fucking fight broke out

Can’t we just all get along?

So I can put hickies on her chest like Little Shawn

Get her pissy drunk off of Dom Pérignon

And it’s on, and I’m gone

That’s that…

Junior M.A.F.I.A.

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