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    Jay-Z

    Stop

    2:53
    3.79 МБ
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    Добавлена 20 февраля 2008 пользователем AND1

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    Текст песни Stop
    Текст песни Stop
    [Intro: Swizz Beats]
    Swizzy...Beats...
    [Chorus]
    Aiyo I cannot (Stop), I will not (Stop)
    AS WE PROCEED
    [Verse 1]
    Young Hov got the block on smash
    Put the gun to the back and hop on some ass
    Nigga fresh-dressed and stay poppin' tags
    Put the ewings on the truck 'for I drop the rag
    Bitches want to bring up the topic of my past
    It's legendary in the hood how I got my cash
    I'm legendady in the hood so I got the mag
    And I've never been a fronter so I've got to blast
    Will I flash... Not...
    As I'm not playing with you motherfuckers the casket drops
    You bastards not gon' assassinate the name I got
    Ya'll hear me though
    Young Hov got the block on smash
    And everybody and their momma want to stop my cash
    Everybody want drama with the top of the brass
    'Til I come through hop out the cab
    1-8-7 they ass
    [Bridge]
    (Stop) Somebody 'gon (Drop) Ya'll hear me though...
    [Chorus]
    [Verse 2]
    Young Hov got the game in a frenzy
    Twenty million sold all independently
    So when you mention me
    Make sure you got together your 'semblies
    Like "he's the games J.F.Kennedy"
    I started out I ain't have no chimney
    My ma was Santa Claus, well at least she pretended to be
    'Til one night, well that's if memory serves me correct I caught her under
    the Christmas tree
    Young Hov ain't have no pops
    Thank God man I had the block
    Ya'll hear me though
    You young fucks got the game all wrong
    This is my life man this ain't no song
    You ain't livin' your rhymes out, you live at your mom's house
    In that tight-ass room, pullin' the cars out
    And the mirror pointin' at your reflection, killing yourself
    You American Pie, stop feeling yourself
    Nigga, you just a worker, go deal yourself
    Stop being a server, get a meal yourself
    Where your heart at, all that yick-yack, ain't nobody scared of your gats
    We got bigger ones
    How many niggas done shot at me shivering
    They were so scared they ain't hit me once
    Young Hov 'bout to go to the range
    'Bout to work on perfecting my aim
    [Chorus]
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