Your native language

عربي

Arabic

عربي

简体中文

Chinese

简体中文

Nederlands

Dutch

Nederlands

Français

French

Français

Deutsch

German

Deutsch

Italiano

Italian

Italiano

日本語

Japanese

日本語

한국인

Korean

한국인

Polski

Polish

Polski

Português

Portuguese

Português

Română

Romanian

Română

Русский

Russian

Русский

Español

Spanish

Español

Türk

Turkish

Türk

Українська

Ukrainian

Українська
User Avatar

Son


Interface


Niveau de difficulté


Accent



langue de l'interface

fr

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Politique de cookies   |   Soutien   |   FAQ
1
s'inscrire / se connecter
Lyrkit

faire un don

5$

Lyrkit

faire un don

10$

Lyrkit

faire un don

20$

Lyrkit

Et/Ou soutenez-moi sur les réseaux sociaux. réseaux:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Mac Dre

They Ask For It

 

They Ask For It

(album: Da U.S. Open - 2005)


Chemical Ali, my posse like Nazis
I call shots like Gotti, my designated hitters catch bodies
Crestland mad man, cutthroat kamikaze
Sicko, schizo, sneak Tommys in the party
And when the funk pop off, squares already know who shot him
Them boys sliding back to the Triple C on posi
Me see Sawyer Street like Big Daddy and Collie
And quick stretch a fly bitch out like Pilates
Chassis think a Mac spitting drag, then bitch try me
I'll have you in Miami getting a couple grand nightly
This some of that Thizz grill, battlefield, Country Club Mac spill
Come against my side and mayne, fa sho, catch a raw deal
For trill, cutt, pass the bomb kill
And I'ma steal on any off-ramp tryna wreck what we build
Nigga, this Mac da Mos, one toke overdose
You suckas can't come close
And if they do, caps get peeled, for real

They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it
Shit hit like George Foreman, one dose and you're soaring
Cuddies buy rope by the pound, we never come down
Rip to trip or whoop a clown, never come down
They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it
Shit hit like George Foreman, one dose and you're soaring
Cuddies buy rope by the pound, we never come down
Rip to trip or whoop a clown, never come down

If I ain't drunk now, I'm finna be
I'm full of the Remy, ready to engage the enemy
Push the extremity, hear me, and don't let up
Use his bitch to set up, and then wet up
Nigga, shut up, you ain't got my mail yet
Get hit with the Kel-Tec, with the shell-catch
My bitch mail-fetch, sell sex, she rich
I check ill traps and will slap the bitch
So cold, my little niggas from the North Pole
Put ya in a chokehold and shoot up your Ford Probe
Apply force, we a mobile strike force
Put 365 horse in a tight Porsche
When my source gives me the coordinates
I sic 'em, get 'em, hit 'em with the pair of ordnance
You insubordinates get the cutthroat guillotine
Ya-da-dickmean? Nigga, this the killa team

They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it
They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it
They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it
They on it, they want it, these niggas ask for it

Dr. Evil: Talk to the hand 'cause the face don't wanna hear it anymore
President: What hand? Talk to your hand?
Dr. Evil: You ain't all that and a bag of potato chips
President: What are you talking about?
Dr. Evil: Don't go there, girlfriend. Mmm-hmm
President: Whose girlfriend?
Dr. Evil: Don't mess with me. I'm one crazy mo-fo. I had to pop a cop 'cause he wasn't giving me my props in Oaktown. No? I heard that somewhere

fait

Avez-vous ajouté tous les mots inconnus de cette chanson ?