Cordero 《don julio》歌词

Sit in the chair, yeah, yeah
Uh-huh, yeah
Sit my alligator jacket on the flo
Let that shit crawl around, whattup Game?
How are you my nigga?
Lets get this money, you heard?
Money in zip duffle bags, shotgun shells
My killas gorillas, niggaz couldnt see em with gazelles
Frontin ass niggaz, go hang with Pharrell
Tryin to be a (Cowboy), you catch bullets like Terrell
Owens, call it T.O., he leakin like a project sink
Busted open like a hot dog link
Bing, it gave me time to think yeah, I did my fuckin prison thing
Came out still on point, like the RZA rings
Im from Compton but my inkpen live in Queens
Rep the dub like Wu-Tang, and I got (Killa Bees) (respect)
Black Wall Mafia, new millennium Genevieves
Got a million dollars say LeBron dont win a ring (word?)
I know Kobe, I be on the floor, "Kobe!"
You know a nigga that can score 81? Show me
I got a (Cuban Link) to a fuckin O.G.
And nigga youre too close, what the fuck, tryna blow me? (back up)
This the face off (respect the don) diamonds all in the charm
(Iced out) Where you be? (The strip club throwin ones)
Where you from? (New York, where you from?) Californ
(Big sharks) Me too (swimmin in a pile of ones)
Yeah nigga, tomorrow man
Goin to take you to go buy some 18-karat gold golf clubs nigga
In the Bronx
This the face off (respect the dons, hundred thousand on the arms)
Son where you be? (Under palm trees stayin warm)
(Who you be?) Raekwon, who is you? (Amaz-on)
Ima keep it (Compton) Staten (til the day is done)
Geah, frontin on us nigga, its like
Its like racin a nigga in Afghanistan to go get some oil nigga
You gon fuck around and get your head burnt
Im a New York dinosaur, Staten Island artifact
Hip-Hops never dead, the (Cuban) gave em heart attacks
Sleep in the woods, target cats come from under the Vs
Sneeze wrong, course Im clappin
Keep it movin homeboy, the macs always actin
Spit in your face, go head lil baby rappers
Cant fuck with us convicts, Stat-land
Its like actions, cliquesll die right with traction
Its Wall Street money and two gunnys
Slammers is extra chunky, yeah, me and my red monkeys
Silverback sales are few donkeys, all of us live comfy
Blow your head off like lunch meat
Chef in the game run the country
Take over the world little girl, better stay out our brunch meetin
Fuck with they paper their gun squeezin
Off top, leak from the cop, them nigga jumped, this is front season
Yo, man yo Game man
Let these niggaz know man freal man
We official man
They wan be readin our autobiographies in a minute, ya heard?
(Yo what if I was from Compton?) What if I was from Staten?
Id be King Kong knockin down the buildings in Manhattan
(Gorilla warfare) Shootouts, real block shit
West coast assassin on some real 2Pac shit
My styles smokin like, after a glock spit
Game get the blood money, fuck bitches and pop Cris
Style like its New Years, cause this a new year
Look at the tracks, either Bigfoot or The Game been through here
The Benjamins wont stop, and neither would a chrome glock
I kill a fire-breathin dragon with a dome shot
Come through your hood in a Chevy Malibu, on stocks
We had a meetin before we got here, and shit gon pop
Heads gon roll, Patron gon spill
Fitted caps gettin peeled like the chrome on the wheels
Got a half a mil, sing your wounds wont heal
I declare war, nigga who gon deal?
Yeah, yall know what time it is man
"Bulletproof Diary" nigga, for real
Many may read this man
A lot of niggaz might not make it home, you heard?
We speak for the real ones man, for the churchmen man
All them real general niggaz man
All them niggaz thats out there man
Dont get no rest or none of that man, for real
The Chef nigga, Game whattup baby?
I love you, ya heard? Superman lover over here for you baby
You know how we do it, we go all over the fuckin world man
Get a lot of bread man, word up, hunned my nigga
We take you to Boca Chica or somen man, knahmsayin?
Sip on some motherfuckin, Don Julio or somen, yknahmsayin?
With two foul rings on, yknahmsayin?
Couple of mean Guatemalians wit us
Half Guatemala, half Somalian nigga
Niggaz aint seen them colors man
编辑于2008/05/24更新

Cordero 《don julio》LRC歌词

[ti:Bulletproof Diaries (feat. Raekwon)]
[ar:The Game]
[al:]
[by: ]
[00:-04.00]The Game - Bulletproof Diaries (feat. Raekwon)
[00:-03.00]LRC by lzh ,from jiangxi pingxiang
[00:-02.00]@ @
[00:-01.00]
[00:00.62]Sit in the chair, yeah, yeah
[00:05.68]Uh-huh, yeah
[00:11.15]Sit my alligator jacket on the flo
[00:15.06]Let that shit crawl around, whattup Game?
[00:18.13]How are you my nigga?
[00:20.87]Lets get this money, you heard?
[00:23.11]Money in zip duffle bags, shotgun shells
[00:25.72]My killas gorillas, niggaz couldnt see em with gazelles
[00:28.59]Frontin ass niggaz, go hang with Pharrell
[00:31.59]Tryin to be a (Cowboy), you catch bullets like Terrell
[00:34.36]Owens, call it T.O., he leakin like a project sink
[00:37.43]Busted open like a hot dog link
[00:40.39]Bing, it gave me time to think yeah, I did my fuckin prison thing
[00:43.62]Came out still on point, like the RZA rings
[00:46.57]Im from Compton but my inkpen live in Queens
[00:49.31]Rep the dub like Wu-Tang, and I got (Killa Bees) (respect)
[00:52.28]Black Wall Mafia, new millennium Genevieves
[00:55.09]Got a million dollars say LeBron dont win a ring (word?)
[00:57.88]I know Kobe, I be on the floor, \"Kobe!\"
[01:00.64]You know a nigga that can score 81? Show me
[01:03.59]I got a (Cuban Link) to a fuckin O.G.
[01:06.75]And nigga youre too close, what the fuck, tryna blow me? (back up)
[01:09.48]This the face off (respect the don) diamonds all in the charm
[01:12.27](Iced out) Where you be? (The strip club throwin ones)
[01:15.16]Where you from? (New York, where you from?) Californ
[01:18.47](Big sharks) Me too (swimmin in a pile of ones)
[01:21.93]Yeah nigga, tomorrow man
[01:26.89]Goin to take you to go buy some 18-karat gold golf clubs nigga
[01:32.26]In the Bronx
[01:33.85]This the face off (respect the dons, hundred thousand on the arms)
[01:35.48]Son where you be? (Under palm trees stayin warm)
[01:38.32](Who you be?) Raekwon, who is you? (Amaz-on)
[01:41.60]Ima keep it (Compton) Staten (til the day is done)
[01:44.28]Geah, frontin on us nigga, its like
[01:49.50]Its like racin a nigga in Afghanistan to go get some oil nigga
[01:52.85]You gon fuck around and get your head burnt
[01:56.67]Im a New York dinosaur, Staten Island artifact
[01:58.69]Hip-Hops never dead, the (Cuban) gave em heart attacks
[02:01.58]Sleep in the woods, target cats come from under the Vs
[02:04.91]Sneeze wrong, course Im clappin
[02:08.04]Keep it movin homeboy, the macs always actin
[02:10.49]Spit in your face, go head lil baby rappers
[02:13.33]Cant fuck with us convicts, Stat-land
[02:16.16]Its like actions, cliquesll die right with traction
[02:18.66]Its Wall Street money and two gunnys
[02:21.62]Slammers is extra chunky, yeah, me and my red monkeys
[02:25.13]Silverback sales are few donkeys, all of us live comfy
[02:27.90]Blow your head off like lunch meat
[02:31.23]Chef in the game run the country
[02:33.59]Take over the world little girl, better stay out our brunch meetin
[02:36.56]Fuck with they paper their gun squeezin
[02:39.60]Off top, leak from the cop, them nigga jumped, this is front season
[02:44.20]Yo, man yo Game man
[02:46.39]Let these niggaz know man freal man
[02:48.65]We official man
[02:50.43]They wan be readin our autobiographies in a minute, ya heard?
[02:54.25](Yo what if I was from Compton?) What if I was from Staten?
[02:56.89]Id be King Kong knockin down the buildings in Manhattan
[02:59.95](Gorilla warfare) Shootouts, real block shit
[03:03.04]West coast assassin on some real 2Pac shit
[03:05.59]My styles smokin like, after a glock spit
[03:08.67]Game get the blood money, fuck bitches and pop Cris
[03:11.48]Style like its New Years, cause this a new year
[03:14.40]Look at the tracks, either Bigfoot or The Game been through here
[03:17.22]The Benjamins wont stop, and neither would a chrome glock
[03:20.67]I kill a fire-breathin dragon with a dome shot
[03:23.53]Come through your hood in a Chevy Malibu, on stocks
[03:26.08]We had a meetin before we got here, and shit gon pop
[03:29.31]Heads gon roll, Patron gon spill
[03:31.86]Fitted caps gettin peeled like the chrome on the wheels
[03:34.86]Got a half a mil, sing your wounds wont heal
[03:37.65]I declare war, nigga who gon deal?
[03:40.50]Yeah, yall know what time it is man
[03:44.09]\"Bulletproof Diary\" nigga, for real
[03:48.60]Many may read this man
[03:51.23]A lot of niggaz might not make it home, you heard?
[03:54.31]We speak for the real ones man, for the churchmen man
[03:58.47]All them real general niggaz man
[04:00.87]All them niggaz thats out there man
[04:03.53]Dont get no rest or none of that man, for real
[04:06.44]The Chef nigga, Game whattup baby?
[04:11.90]I love you, ya heard? Superman lover over here for you baby
[04:18.30]You know how we do it, we go all over the fuckin world man
[04:22.02]Get a lot of bread man, word up, hunned my nigga
[04:27.54]We take you to Boca Chica or somen man, knahmsayin?
[04:32.56]Sip on some motherfuckin, Don Julio or somen, yknahmsayin?
[04:38.35]With two foul rings on, yknahmsayin?
[04:43.03]Couple of mean Guatemalians wit us
[04:45.87]Half Guatemala, half Somalian nigga
[04:49.11]Niggaz aint seen them colors man






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