
Ill Figures Raekwon (Ft. Kool G Rap & M.O.P.)
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "Ill Figures" от Raekwon (Ft. Kool G Rap & M.O.P.). Lyrxo предлагает вам самый полный и точный текст этой композиции без лишних отвлекающих факторов. Узнайте все куплеты и припев, чтобы лучше понять любимую песню и насладиться ею в полной мере. Идеально для фанатов и всех, кто ценит качественную музыку.

[Intro: Raekwon]
When I write my lyrics, it's like, it's like
I want my shit to be phat, I want people to be able to understand
Yo, Anybody can rhyme, youknowhatimsaying
But it's what you saying that makes a person know about you
Knowhatimsaying, you know the type of person you is
So it's like really, I'm just more of just
Being a street narrator (aiyo, what up, famo?)
[Verse 1: Raekwon]
Reefer lit, love hip hop, the gangstas got me like the broccoli
Brooklyn baby cooling at a swap meet
Real niggas wanna meet me, ladies wanna eat me
Money green Mercedes clean, baby, beat me
Love getting dressed up, sweats and TECs
Ride around the hood, good, getting Gotti respect
Hand is golden, a OG rolling and holding, yo
Fresh kicks, soft leather, pockets is swollen
Let my jam hit your tape deck, it's straight up, and made up
For every real nigga with his gun on him, hate up
Flying through the city nights, new flights
Blue ice, hundred thousand in a Nike bag, license
Drug shop, I'm sorry, Atari in the Ferrari
Next see the Lex A Shallah, La Tam'pa
Eating yo, all of us, scamma gangstas
You know we honor, tip the kangol, cooling in the brown vengos
When I write my lyrics, it's like, it's like
I want my shit to be phat, I want people to be able to understand
Yo, Anybody can rhyme, youknowhatimsaying
But it's what you saying that makes a person know about you
Knowhatimsaying, you know the type of person you is
So it's like really, I'm just more of just
Being a street narrator (aiyo, what up, famo?)
[Verse 1: Raekwon]
Reefer lit, love hip hop, the gangstas got me like the broccoli
Brooklyn baby cooling at a swap meet
Real niggas wanna meet me, ladies wanna eat me
Money green Mercedes clean, baby, beat me
Love getting dressed up, sweats and TECs
Ride around the hood, good, getting Gotti respect
Hand is golden, a OG rolling and holding, yo
Fresh kicks, soft leather, pockets is swollen
Let my jam hit your tape deck, it's straight up, and made up
For every real nigga with his gun on him, hate up
Flying through the city nights, new flights
Blue ice, hundred thousand in a Nike bag, license
Drug shop, I'm sorry, Atari in the Ferrari
Next see the Lex A Shallah, La Tam'pa
Eating yo, all of us, scamma gangstas
You know we honor, tip the kangol, cooling in the brown vengos
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