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    Krumb Snatcha

    To All The Killas

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    Добавлена 20 февраля 2008 пользователем AND1

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    (feat. Lord Harrison, Timbo King)
    [Chorus: Prodigy] [sample]
    To all the killers and the hundred dollar billers
    To real niggaz, who aint got no feelings
    To all the killers and the hundred dollar billers
    To real niggaz... to real niggaz
    [Krumbsnatcha]
    K-B-X, yo, yo
    Who wants to test the untestable?
    Infrared 9 at your spine, leave you vegetable
    Where the bullet not, dont get caught in drop when the light change
    Left that light frame like eject on the flight plane
    Peace to thug niggaz on this shit that we on
    Get your heat on, guzzle down that Bacardi le-mon
    Fuck a don, Im on symotic over your block shit
    Pop shit, watch the glock spit, lay you like carpets
    I roll with niggaz that sniff coke and tote guns
    and take funds, whether number 1s or sulibate nuns
    Shits official, fuck 5 mics, its 5 pistols
    Never miss you, penetrate your body tissue
    Keep you runnin like runner, sweatin like summer
    Then someone unexpectedly guns ya from the Tididel Hummer
    Beat that ass like drama, fade em out like Donna Summa
    Forever like Wu-Tang, my crew bang like accidents
    [Timbo King]
    For real niggaz who feel this is on some numb shit
    Gun shit, peace to my jail niggaz who run shit
    Corner thugs buggin on birds, we serve em purpose
    The same 45 in your mouth, stuck up, your worthless
    Extreme measures, illegal treasures, plus the safe scavengers
    Pepper mace in your face, purple haze, lace hash from a rocko burnin
    We on the block earnin thousands from PJs to housins
    Diggin pockets, rip trousers, spark a dutch, start a forest fire
    Tap, drop a diamond, informant niggaz walk police wires
    We on some 86, stick-up figure impulse
    The last days are crime, son, take it as an insult
    [Chorus x2]
    [Lord Harrison]
    We leave em rotten just for plottin my squadren
    get no part of this, we robbin, your position
    on the mission to target, is you bitch made?
    My army brigade got the plan made
    We rippin thru they assholes with the triple-edged blade
    The illest exectioners droppin this, with peace to the bottomless
    Its symbolic to monogomous hollow tips
    Rippin thru they vests for respect, nevertheless
    to impress, we come in vain with some envious techs
    My enemies get viciously torn up by my cavalry
    thats constantly shootin for this life of equality
    Fatality, supreme victory, some war stories
    Misery bring treachery, so now I kill you slowly, fuckin phony
    Receiver of many, I come with plenty
    A posion for they belly, into Hell is where I send the
    enemies, if you can stand the heat, step in the flame
    and get your fame put to shame cuz you lame
    Leavin your bitch rappers slain, truly insane
    You leave this Earth with my scars, sun, moon and stars
    is what you see when my 7-half mind spars
    [Krumbsnatcha]
    Yo, yo, yo
    Desert Eagle at your cerebral, keepin you civilized
    the thug way, your mug stay the same way the slug lay
    Done it and seen it thru these blunted contacts
    Stolen ax, buy new gats, hot gats, serial scratch
    like fleas, 8 million MCs drop to your knees like church mast
    Play fast, full mission from the stash
    [Timbo King]
    Dirty burners blazin at night, we got the ave sewn
    Chrome, nickel-plated, 44, murder, dead zone
    Police tracin prints, stolen cars with tints
    Bum bitches boostin gear, sellin clothes for cents
    Sharp razors make faces ugly, snatch a diamond, lovely
    Drinkin Valentine ghetto bubbly
    [Chorus x2]
    [ To All The Killas Lyrics ]
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