
The Chase Ghostface Killah (Ft. Sun God)
На этой странице вы найдете полный текст песни "The Chase" от Ghostface Killah (Ft. Sun God). 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.

[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]
Speed up, Lord, they moving on us
Unmarked cars with dogs, yo, they shooting at us
Light the weed up, for God sake, it's okay, call up Abi
Tell 'em give Ricky the cash, he get half, she's my wife
Gets the V, beans to white
Yo, watch where you going, nigga, breath, alright?
Yo, watch the bitch hop the curb
Racist-ass jakes wildin', spittin' out racial slurs
Stay calm and be patient, grip and guard your nation
Next time they pull out from the trunk we blazin'
Big shit going off bow-dow-bow-bow
Shawn Bell up in his grave wildin' out
If we get caught, son, my lawyer's in Boston
He got a hundred thou to retain with mad frosting
Yo, so don't panic, stay well-planted
Trey-pound pokin' my dick
I pulled the shit out and start blasting
[Verse 2: Sun God]
Without askin', homie, throw me the ratchet
I guess I'm here to audible the plays, John Madden
So switch lanes, do a buck no laughing
Now double-hop the road and go to the Gas Inn
Dog, you imagine? Pigs on our ass, we on foot
And we ain't got no where to throw the ratchet
I'm on point, clap that bitch, this shit tragic
I'm down for whatever, make it happen
Speed up, Lord, they moving on us
Unmarked cars with dogs, yo, they shooting at us
Light the weed up, for God sake, it's okay, call up Abi
Tell 'em give Ricky the cash, he get half, she's my wife
Gets the V, beans to white
Yo, watch where you going, nigga, breath, alright?
Yo, watch the bitch hop the curb
Racist-ass jakes wildin', spittin' out racial slurs
Stay calm and be patient, grip and guard your nation
Next time they pull out from the trunk we blazin'
Big shit going off bow-dow-bow-bow
Shawn Bell up in his grave wildin' out
If we get caught, son, my lawyer's in Boston
He got a hundred thou to retain with mad frosting
Yo, so don't panic, stay well-planted
Trey-pound pokin' my dick
I pulled the shit out and start blasting
[Verse 2: Sun God]
Without askin', homie, throw me the ratchet
I guess I'm here to audible the plays, John Madden
So switch lanes, do a buck no laughing
Now double-hop the road and go to the Gas Inn
Dog, you imagine? Pigs on our ass, we on foot
And we ain't got no where to throw the ratchet
I'm on point, clap that bitch, this shit tragic
I'm down for whatever, make it happen
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