Cut Throats

Da Lench Mob

    Continúa después del anuncio

    Down, down, down, down
    Now, I got to cut ya

    It's on, that you step to the big black gates
    Too late, no escape, from the Planet of The Apes
    No doubt, there's no way out, no daps, perhaps
    While the homies set the traps, I load the straps
    By the way, the last time a fool came through our hang out
    Gunshots rang out, blew his motherfucking brains out
    Cut Throats style, everything is filed
    With rums in the slums for miles and miles
    So, if you toose, you loose, with none will be in your shoes
    So grab your cheap ass crews and catch the blues
    Hollow points holes that won't never close
    Lit them up cause I rather stick them up, and get them up
    Stereotype for life; is how I'm living
    Down with the Guerrillas In the Mist but Fuck! This
    I slang bricks, only fuck with whoopty chicks
    The name is Mack 10, and I live off dirty licks

    We do whatever it takes, we gotta make them ends
    Even if it means jacking friends
    And I'ma cut throats

    Explosions and earthquakes that make the room shake
    Back up
    Yo, hold on, Fuck That!
    Can I do that over my homieboy?
    Yeah, you better do that motherfucker homie
    Yeah man, Fuck This Shit!

    Continúa después del anuncio

    I can break this motherfucker down, so let me do it like this
    Explosions and earthquakes that make the room shake
    Back up, make room, Ba-boom now you're doomed
    Hollow points to the dome, once again it's on
    Do you want a fat platter of some bloody brain matter?
    Out cause my. 22, I brought it brand new
    It's draw me kind of duel, Punk give up the Lexus Coupe
    Uhh! Let the track loop, whores about to shoot
    Any wickeddie diggeddie nigga that try to get me for my loot
    So what's the scoop? - four bail troops
    Dead end show by your junkie ass Cut Throat
    And I'ma cut throats

    Now, I got to cut ya, down
    Now, I got to cut ya, down
    Now, I got to cut ya, down

    Welcome to the horrors show, murder is the flick
    Your discretion is advice, shit is about to get live
    Straight from the start, born with the coldest heart
    Known to get low to split the trick's skull apart
    You can't stand the heat, then get the fuck out the kitchen
    Cause ninety four, is the season for lynching
    From outta the dark is the South Central G
    Ready, hand steady on the bloody Machete
    Don't you ever try to fuck me, you buster
    I cut off your head and send the drama to your mama
    Fucking with the Don, I put you in the right direction
    A first class ticket to the resurrection, fool!

    So whatever it takes, we gotta make them ends
    Even if it means jacking friends
    And I'ma cut throats

    Rolling with my crew about four, I'm on a down low
    Tinny stepping toe, as I passed up the liquor store
    The devil is on my shoulder, should I kill it? (Hell yeah)
    Bat that ass up, I step back like Jackie Robinson
    I hit the home run, better yet a grand slam
    I let the win jamm 'er, mack-a-frama-lama
    On a board burnt up Seville
    A slice jacking where the fuck his chill
    I've seen a bitch ran in down the hill
    Mr. Cut Throat, took his axe
    And gave that bitch Jill forty lacks
    When we looked and seen what we done
    I grabbed the pen and the pad and put that shit on this album
    And I'ma cut throats

    Who the fuck can I cut like Spaghetti?
    Steady Mobbing, Mr. Machete, robbing all these brand tricks
    Sharp as a home made shank
    From Super Macks to the holding tank, I make them all stank
    You caught the vapors, but
    I float like a butterfly
    I sting when I do my thing like a paper cut
    Who got the sort alcohol and the cotton?
    Rotten when I cut through the lame hold them dogs rotten
    Have you forgotten what I've been through?
    Nappy headed Ginsu (chop!) with my Hip-Hop when I (chop!)
    It don't stop till the heads fall off the cut and drop
    Crazy as the bitch who cut off her husband's cock
    Her name is Bobbitt, I got to rob it, nigga leave the cards running
    I don't need to take my gun in
    Pull out my knife, it's your money or your life
    Must I cope new quote, sincerely yours from the cut throats
    And I'ma cut throats

    Chop Chop, watch watch, bluaa
    Now, I got to cut ya, down
    Now, I got to cut ya, down

    Información de la canción

    Composición:

    ¿Los datos están equivocados?

    Enviar revisión