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
Ghostface Killah

The Dog's Of War

 

The Dog's Of War

(album: 36 Seasons - 2014)


[Verse 1 Ghostface Killah:]
Money Miggs, let's get him
I need help to plan an attack twist back these youngin's
Tired of the run-in's, these niggas ain't live
Nine years in the desert, son, they couldn't survive
We're gonna ambush. Blow out the windows, set flames
Turn the pilots on, set up bombs by the maze
Blow brains, tie niggas up to the radiators

[Shawn Wigs:]
They ain't gladiators we gon' crush 'em
Push 'em to the edge, bomb rush 'em
You know how we do. OG style I dress like the pizza man
And when they answer the door you come out the van blazing
Flame-throwing niggas like shish kebabs

[Ghostface Killah:]
Toasty, roasty, they be like Ghost be crazy as shit
They fucking with the wrong one
Son of a gun, I make murdering fun
You took my baby, my block, and corrupted my hood
I'm a do it for my hometown, New York understood
I see laboratories, chemicals and shit
They cooking right here on the block. I'm throwing a fit
Destructo, destroying houses like wrecking balls
Crushing your foundation you sit somewhere, inspect the fall

[Shawn Wigs:]
Chill. Back the fuck up; it's gonna blow
He gotta face full of powder and that blue-like snow
The explosion threw him twenty feet in the air
He hit the floor and his face just stuck in blank stare
Hey yo, Tone. Hey yo, Tone. Wake the fuck up
The chemical burns on his face, I wanna throw up
I hugged him, felt his heart beating, his chest breathing
Fuck the police, son, I ain't leaving
Scooped him, threw him in the van and split
Took him back to the crib and shit, we gon' fix it

[Hook Ghostface Killah & Shawn Wigs:]
Hey yo, get him (I got 'em)
We gon' rock 'em
Try dealing shit on my block, you got a problem
It's Tony Starks and Money Migg, the OG's
Schooling niggas in these streets with no degrees

[Movie Sample]
"Yeah. That's right, nigga. What you want? [?] black ass."

[Verse 2 Kool G Rap:]
I hear 'em talking gun talk, that's my language (language)
Hollows up in the chambers, a hundred shots that'll [?] (yeah)
Soon as a nigga aim 'em, they blowing like James Ingram (word)
Nickle plates from '88, shit'll "Wrath Of Kane" em (Kane 'em)
I'll pee on a handball court wall where they paint 'em (now hold that)
I'll fucking yellow-stain 'em
Them niggas out of pocket with it (word)
Buck shots, left his big man chopped to a midget (blaow-blaow)
Ripping crazy shit, popping from a Civic
[?] Soprano put this nigga Starks in a barrel
Them slugs hit the wall, I assassinated his shadow (damn)
At the train yard, my tires rolling over gravel (yeah)
I hope I hear him step on the third rail and crackle
Now I'm hopping out the whip, gotta finish this
My bigger [?] about to show him what the business is
Parked trains, darker rain, ain't no witnesses (where he at?)
I swore I heard his footsteps right behind me (word, yo)
So, I turned around quick to do this nigga slimy
Nothing but a black stray cat ran over line three (what's that?)
A homeless man rolling cans in a shopping cart (oh, shit)
And then, from top of the train, came a pop, a spark
Wish I could pop back but I was locked in a arch
The nigga hit his mark right on top of my heart (aw, damn)
My whole chest went numb and the pain got sharp (down)
Fell face down on the ground, saw the Timberland mark
He bopped, swinging the gun like a pendulum arm
The silencer on the shit was like a Michelin part
Then everything faded out, became of victim of Starks

zrobione

Czy dodałeś wszystkie nieznane słowa z tej piosenki?