-Que onda Frost, how you been homeboy?... -Hey wuz up dawg... -Check it out man, I want you to meet my number one soldado Low-G... -Hey, Low-G, where you from Homes?...
[Low-G] Mi querida... Centro America Aqui en Houston ganando mi feria En la esquina la vida es fina Le pido a Dios que me cuide a mi nina Mira, mi jale es la calle Vendiendo libras que vienen del valle Si mi madre me entendiera Mi familia va primera Mi bandera era mi guerra Es whateva bustin no cualquiera Quiero que sepas que yo soy la muerte Si te escapas sera pura suerte...
[Chorus:] kapeesh understand the touch Let a G show you how to turn a man to dust L.A. to Nueva York que es puro amor For all who got love for El Jugador Houston to Nueva york Three bandidos on tha microphone Stike with crome True crime family, enemies pay Never die happily...
[Kid Frost] Assault riffles, professional snipers Got my rival, shittin in they die You don't like us cool, but don't show it Who wanna fuck with this killers slash poet I blow with duss, like nitro-gliset You bitches, love talkin' off a pot you piss in Chill homes, cause you ain't that hard Faud, frossin' in your own backyard I'm world wide in the two tone blow ride You grow high, they might seen it Baby that's my life hater, heart breaker Life taker smile now, cry later...
-Dope House Records -Man What's up "LOS" -up with my bitch Snow White -She's going for 13-5 -Cool, let's start with 50 then...
[Chorus]
[SPM] I'm in the sport, where we import What you snort Leavin court, goin straight to the airport I don't chase paper, paper chase me Fedz mad,kinda sad, how I brake free Take he, to the rough neck taktics I got you putos screamin worse than an actress In a horror flick, he'll be fallin brick In this biz you better be rollin thick Holdin shit down son ain't no seein' us My nina Buss, another human bein crushed Street genious, so, so serious Your fairness, deadly experience...
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Copy to Clipboard: -Que onda Frost, how you been homeboy?... -Hey wuz up dawg... -Check it out man, I want you to meet my number one soldado Low-G... -Hey, Low-G, where you from Homes?...
[Low-G] Mi querida... Centro America Aqui en Houston ganando mi feria En la esquina la vida es fina Le pido a Dios que me cuide a mi nina Mira, mi jale es la calle Vendiendo libras que vienen del valle Si mi madre me entendiera Mi familia va primera Mi bandera era mi guerra Es whateva bustin no cualquiera Quiero que sepas que yo soy la muerte Si te escapas sera pura suerte...
[Chorus:] kapeesh understand the touch Let a G show you how to turn a man to dust L.A. to Nueva York que es puro amor For all who got love for El Jugador Houston to Nueva york Three bandidos on tha microphone Stike with crome True crime family, enemies pay Never die happily...
[Kid Frost] Assault riffles, professional snipers Got my rival, shittin in they die You don't like us cool, but don't show it Who wanna fuck with this killers slash poet I blow with duss, like nitro-gliset You bitches, love talkin' off a pot you piss in Chill homes, cause you ain't that hard Faud, frossin' in your own backyard I'm world wide in the two tone blow ride You grow high, they might seen it Baby that's my life hater, heart breaker Life taker smile now, cry later...
-Dope House Records -Man What's up "LOS" -up with my bitch Snow White -She's going for 13-5 -Cool, let's start with 50 then...
[Chorus]
[SPM] I'm in the sport, where we import What you snort Leavin court, goin straight to the airport I don't chase paper, paper chase me Fedz mad,kinda sad, how I brake free Take he, to the rough neck taktics I got you putos screamin worse than an actress In a horror flick, he'll be fallin brick In this biz you better be rollin thick Holdin shit down son ain't no seein' us My nina Buss, another human bein crushed Street genious, so, so serious Your fairness, deadly experience...
[Chorus]
Kapeesh understand the touch......
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