Future Thug
(专辑: Chilltown, New York - 2004)
[Verse 1: Erick Sermon] Aiyyo everybody hands up Run yo' bling bling, nigga boy stand up It's E-Dub, whassup? Yeah I'm bouncin, large amounts of cash we countin That stand tall like mountains To bring the
drama, it takes a
second man (that's it) One wrong move, "Bring the
Pain" like Method Man It's your boy Damnit, it's the
Bandit, new Hummer in transit Twenty-seven inches come standard (YO!) This my people, whether drivin the
Benz, the
Pinto Or the
Regal, the
Range Rover, the
Beatle (uh) I'm in New York now but I
represent the
SWATS of A-Town When I
touch down amid grounds Me and L-Dub and Redman, that's it mo'fuckah You heard what I
said man, that's real (what the
deal) It's E-Dub, pronounce it right Eyes green like Kryptonite, so good night! [Chorus:] What y'all want? Y'all want this? We give it to ya, we future thugs We up in yo' crib like, we up in yo' club like We up in yo' hood like, we future thugs [Verse 2: 11/29] Where niggaz be thinkin the, Cadillac's on 23's Bitch bring with the
DVD's, old school bucket seats South Memphis to College P, Decatur to N.Y.C. Top droppin that Benz 'til it, came with the
leather seat Back up off my whip or I
jump out and cause a
tragedy St. Louis to Florida, from N.Y. to Tennessee Them boys ride 20's, them niggaz from the
hay Them boys flickin Bentleys, Benz, Lex and Escalades Them boys ride clean, twist and turnin in yo' face With that chameleon paint, fresh as {? }
I
pull up in a
fo'-fo'-two with E-Dub With a
convertible top on the
Chevy, we like what Def Squad in this piece, you want it we give it to ya You don't want no trouble with me, I
might do ya And tear the
club up with E-Dub and that nigga [bang] Better respect my gangsta I
stay with two Rugers [Chorus] [Verse 3: Redman] Yo, I
ain't a
thug but I
do thug things nigga so hold me down Forty round, caliber spitter, that's how the
shorty crown Run with gordy hounds for 40 miles then ignore me now Duck +Motowns+ than Barry Gordy found, sorry clown! Super future thug, 12 shoe shoot you through the
rug James Bond, watch on my arm, tellin me who to truck My God's my gun, don't need him since cerebreal cock Beat him size ammo three to five mammal we the
Gods That'll shit on your turf, that'll get in your skirt I
heard Alicia, so my dick give what a
woman is worth I
make them niggaz blow... then hide 'em inside 'em My noggin is strange when them dogs is ridin Cause I'm a, cheap fucker, street usher, eat supper with Pack of wolves that act a
fool, blood on they upper lip Need a
nigga, I'm that nigga to call, nigga to draw Chainsaws to the
brawl, cuttin ya ligaments off [Chorus]