Necklace of Heads - Vinnie Paz

Necklace of Heads - Vinnie Paz

Альбом
The Pain Collector
Год
2018
Язык
`Engelska`
Длительность
156500

Nedan finns texten till låten Necklace of Heads , artist - Vinnie Paz med översättning

Låttexten " Necklace of Heads "

Originaltext med översättning

Necklace of Heads

Vinnie Paz

Yo Oh No

This shit crazy pop

Aiight, look

Yeah

Lick shots like they would do with the fever

Stab 'em dead or a Pompeii, Julius Caesar

Knife work nice, show you what to do with a cleaver

Son munafiqun, he a truthful deceiver

Supplication on the plains of Arafat

Puerto Ricans everywhere, they talk to me in Arawak

Money always ass back, and I’ma pull the barrel back

Knowing damn well he couldn’t see me like a cataract

Where the organ grinder partner, tell me where the Tommy at

And riddle him with bullets in him, move him like an army brat

Anarchist and Marxist, you listening to Commie rap

Self-proclaimed God so the fuck if I’ma honor that

This rat tried to get me book like a library

My shot unorthodox like Shawn Marion

Powers of pain, Animal Hawk and barbarian

You beaten by the fist of God so Paul bury 'em

One gun, two gun, three gun, four

It ain’t an adversary that’s ready to go to war

One gun, two gun, three gun, four

A hundred round drum and it’ll clear the fuckin' floor

I told y’all not to fuck with me

Kidnaps takin' the kids like full custody

Every rhyme like my first, I spit hungrily

Y’all don’t know cheese and wine out in Tuscany

Y’all think having a rack is called luxury

All bark and no bite, you not touching me

It’s too dark for you, the wind is too blustering

I don’t like cops or opps in my company

The trap boys still cookin' the brick

And it’s raw so it look like they cookin' the grit

If I counted every bottle that I took to the dick

I’d lose count pa, I was in a room full of shit

You cupcaked out, still bitchin' 'bout a jawn

End-game talkin' 'bout a bishop verse a pawn

You dead goin' to sleep, listenin' to birds chirpin'

The type of asshole to be talkin' in third person

One gun, two gun, three gun, four

It ain’t an adversary that’s ready to go to war

One gun, two gun, three gun, four

A hundred round drum and it’ll clear the fuckin' floor

Yeah, yeah

Pack Pistol Pazzy and all that, the Sicilian Shooter

Y’nam sayin'?

Philly in this mahfucker, yeah

That’s the law

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