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

Dźwięk


Interfejs


Poziom trudności


Akcent



język interfejsu

pl

Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Polityka Cookie   |   Wsparcie   |   FAQ
1
zarejestruj się / zaloguj
Lyrkit

podarować

5$

Lyrkit

podarować

10$

Lyrkit

podarować

20$

Lyrkit

I/lub wesprzyj mnie w mediach społecznościowych. sieci:


Lyrkit YouTube Lyrkit Instagram Lyrkit Facebook
Lloyd Banks

Fall Back

 

Fall Back

(album: Mo Money In The Bank, Pt 2 - 2003)


Nigga
You know it's a pimpin affair when the car enters
While you give your hoes mostly ice like bartenders
We shop heavy; a bunch of hard spenders
I'm a giant
In rap it's difficult for small forwards to guard centers
Don't let me hit you with the cali bro
I'm raining with the record of a street legend
And you ain't up my alimo
My nigga bugging off that tan grass and hash
It'll cut a nigga's shit quicker than Grand Master Flash
Your shit ain't gonna never pop like 10 gold chains
That's why your bitch blowing on me like Nintendo games
I ain't surprised most these hoes been the same since school
Doing more bending over than a game of pool
Get your own bread
Don't sweat it I got some
Now guns are like tattoo's nigga
Even Bow Wow's got one
You fucking with a champion
If I can't do it, it can't be done
Why you think we're number 1?

A lot of this niggas be running with their crew fronting
Perfectly honest
You niggas ain't gonna do nothing
Chill yall
And my nigga you can hold that
If you don't want to feel the ratchet
Nigga fall back

Right now, they're trying to hit me with a mob of feds
They say I got that coke responsible
For that shit Whitney and Bobby said
Plus I got a chick with me that can slob a head
With a looser neck
Than the dolls with the bobble heads
She do her job in bed
And slide down polls
Quick enough to change in the Batman and Robin's threads
The word has probably spread
If you hustle and don't want to end up in a lobby dead
Go and get a job instead
Cause if I slid through your area
It'll probably be with them crazy little kids from Liberia
Who don't think of bids when they airing ya?
Cause they so hungry, for a peeking of a fridge they will bury ya
You think you hot cause your chain hangs from neck to navel
When you're just another writer for your record label
Look how empty your pockets are
I can tell you never had 100 Grand
Unless it was a chocolate bar
I keep a full clip of shells that explode
Cause the canaries on my wrist look like the yellow brick road
And now they're bringing me models from Europe
And jars of hydro just as sticky as a bottle of syrup
I'm on the move like I ride a van
And I can walk through any gang territory
With the same suit as Spiderman
I'm a winner with my first two
And I'm stunting until my death
So I want spinners on my Hurse too

A lot of this niggas be running with their crew fronting
Perfectly honest
You niggas ain't gonna do nothing
Chill yall
And my nigga you can hold that
If you don't want to feel the ratchet
Nigga fall back

See now we own buildings
Toting the Eiffel Towers
And if you violate
I'll put a hole in your cauliflower
Stacks of Serena Williams paper
Pushing a mean coup
I'll vegetable you niggas
Like a broccoli bean soup
Von Dutch flossin ass niggas, believe me dude
We jiggalo's dummy
With Emillio, that's the fast money
Look and see the zone that we in
Sipping yak from the 1800's
Specially brewed from the barrels of Napoleon
You never knew the daughter split niggas this bad
Left on colostomy diets and wrapped up in a shit bag
Rock white fitted's
White T's, 2-X
Coppin whips from overseas
Can't even drive the shit up in the U.S
Look cause we ain't hit you
Nigga thinking he blessed
Thanking the Lord like he was lucky
I'm sorry little nigga, you next
It's like robbing a nigga bitch
You better run in for before
I put this faggot to sleep
Counting sheep by the hundreds
But now, you and your little friend dead
You nigga's think something's sweet
I'll sour your shit
Like a box of little Lemon Heads
About 80 niggas faces will leave you stitches
And have you looking worse
Than baby's born from retarded bitches
Then I take the whole shit
Even your small chain
And have the streets talking about me
Like sports announcers for ball games
A lot of niggas wonder why my shit stay sticking
Cause I be talking greasy
Like I was just eating Church's Chicken

A lot of this niggas be running with their crew fronting
Perfectly honest
You niggas ain't gonna do nothing
Chill yall
And my nigga you can hold that
If you don't want to feel the ratchet
Nigga fall back

zrobione

Czy dodałeś wszystkie nieznane słowa z tej piosenki?