Up on the Wall - The Game, Problem, Ty Dolla $ign

Up on the Wall - The Game, Problem, Ty Dolla $ign

Год
2016
Язык
`angielski`
Длительность
305420

Poniżej tekst piosenki Up on the Wall , wykonawca - The Game, Problem, Ty Dolla $ign z tłumaczeniem

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Up on the Wall

The Game, Problem, Ty Dolla $ign

Old pussy ass mark, bitch ass buster

Think you from LA cause you listen to some Mustard

This is Battlecat, my nigga Kurupt had the battle raps

We go back like four flats on the Cadillac

Nigga you ain’t never been to a hood day

You don’t know Ice Cube, today was a good day

You ain’t never been dropped off in the jungles

Teared Khakis, red bandana wrapped around your knuckles

Me and my brother used to dip down in 'Shaw

Stopped at the Wiener Schnitzel, got socked in the jaw

By some sixties, I bombed back, the nigga pulled out

A strap, said it’s 6−0, I ducked then he missed me

Now I’m back to Bompton

Before I hit the hood, a nigga gotta stop in the Swans

And pick up a sack, had fifty for an eighth

And I only had fifty, made it last all day

Smoking with the homies, my nigga G Weed from Nellaz

My nigga Hooter from Athens Park stay brackin'

Fo' line, deuce line, Bray still active

And the Cedars ain’t giving no passes, why we asking?

How you gon bang if you really ain’t from LA

We spray your gang up on the wall

Tell me

And how you gon' fade if you really don’t know the dance

I see you really don’t bang at all

Mark-ass

Murder was the case that they gave Game

Cops on the cutlass cause they know a nigga gang bang

Red bandana round the rear-view

«Where you say you from, Blood?»

Niggas can’t hear you

Flag on the left side claiming you a Blood

Blue rag on the right side calling niggas cuz

Bout to get your mark ass chalked out on the West

This for all my niggas in the pen beating on they chest like

I said I need some pussy on my motherfucking wall

And I ain’t got my commissary yet

I said the next motherfucker try to steal a cigarette

He gon' get a fucking pencil to the neck

That’s on the set

Ooh, I’m a Tree Top rep, all the

Homies know is shoot choppers, handguns and Tecs

Not unless my niggas really get it popping

Tree Top niggas like the Hoovers in Bompton

Big Budda, Syke o, Slim 4, Lil Wack

Q-Ball, Lil' Wolf, TK, big back

YZ four, three, two strap

Quisha and Miss Lisa, house, where we at

It’s the gang bang capital, 2 T’s capitals

Enemies know the business, this shit is factual

Bompton’s most hated, fuck it, shoot out and fade it

So my mama stay awake cause her son be gang banging

You don’t know about the put ons and DPs

Hanging out on the block (coming through to squeeze)

Some outta town niggas disrespecting

I see why Suge Knight and Big U was arrested

(Can't forget about the Mexicans)

And I fuck with the villains and the swans on God

On God

I got niggas from Denver Lane that’ll ride

I got esés that’ll kill you at your job

I got some lueders by the Wiener Schnitzel

Hanging out with the pistols, making sure shit official

Big and they both got stripes

Both locked up for life, so if I ever hit the pen

I got a squad, hell yeah I’m on that gangsta shit

Nigga run up, knockout, he gon' think he’s slick

Hub in the dub, nigga don’t even trip

I get you chased by the grapes, nigga 300 crips

My nigga Magic from Avalon, Draws from neighbourhood

Get your ass dope fiends slipping in Hollywood

Hop from 6−0, Girch from Santana

Roc from Nutty Blocc, we tied our bandanas

And for my little nigga Frogg I gotta stay active

Blood in, Blood out, what’s brackin'?

R.I.P OG TC

Shoutout to my big homie Bone from Athens

Ridin' down Bentral 'bout to bust a right

On Piru street and scoop this nigga Problem up, Blood

What, green light and yeah it’s go time

Product out the fo', they can get it off in no time

Oh my, did it on my own, no cosign

45, devil in disguise, free dope trial

West side, ride 'em off 3rd avenue

Go at us, have your shirt wet as Lake Havasu

Pop pop diggity drop drop, hopped in a hotbox

Smashed off, stashed the Glock, drop it off at the chop shop

Boy, dollars only thing make sense

Fo' to the duece, rest in peace 4 Bent

What

How you gon bang if you really ain’t from LA

We spray your gang up on the wall

Tell me

And how you gon' fade if you really don’t know the dance

I see you really don’t bang at all

Mark-ass

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