Verdi: Rigoletto / Act 1: "Figlia..Mio padre!"..."Quanto dolor"

歌詞

Guns on the table, mama in the back room Bitches in the kitchen, water whipping crack foam Clap foam, clack foam, please respect the trap, homie When it snap, homie You a rat, homie Roaches in the ashtray glowing Everybody blowing Or they sniffing blow and Yelling "there they go" and They can hear the 'po and They be riding slow and looking at the door But it's day, and it's just somebody's daughter skipping rope Like peas, porridge hot Peas porridge cold Miss Mary Mack in the 'lac with the gold Hundred spoke, lung and smoking When she speak, teach me toking Black sleeve, black leather seat, black '44 Black snapback cap to the back, talk smack, cack cack And you keep going back Because you're knowing where you're at Everybody wanna rap but don't know how Everybody wanna run when they hear that sound Everybody think they're hard until they face hit ground Everybody make a choice, it is not profound Either get money or die Get faded or die Get famous or die Get that stainless or die Get your hands in the sky or get it between the eyes Get money or die, get money or die This trap life is deeper than going to church Deeper than a diss verse, my hand in that bitch purse Post it on, bitch you cornered Corner store, pushing work Wanted one ounce, it's the whole thing Stuff a swisher full of purp, smoke it Getting money or die, fuck the cops Dope fiends need it, let's get it, bitches need ass shots 30 in the plastic Glock, ski-mask beanie on Yeah I grew up on my own, you could call it home grown Feeling like I'm Al Capone, on my new Chic' city shit Palms itchy, wrist twitch, bag and sold a whole brick It's gon' be a homicide, put your hands in my pocket Guce'll bust a cap in a nigga like rocket Colors, colors, gang bang capital White house down, got a ho on in front the capital Bitches playin', don't miss the violence like KC and Mary J Now listen to this hook from Clipping and have a nice day, it's Guce Bring it back, homie All of that money Gotta pay the pimp like you gotta pay the tax If you're gonna pay to fuck, you're a trick, that's that If you're gonna name names you a snitch, not a crack dealer Not a killer, not a boss, no, you're roleplaying But I don't get it twisted, listen this is not a game, shit Why you on that gang shit if you wanna name shit Why you on that slang shit if you smoke that same shit Plenty pieces on the board, all the squares black though Covered in the soot from that bootstrap class, so Get it how you're living and live in color of calico Catch me out here slipping, they got it backwards, they palindromes But they styling though Smiling diamonds on 'em First to get it to snatch win the llamas drawn on Pictures in the pavement, pick a corner with flowers Tire marks where they laying, back to work in an hour Everybody wanna rap but don't know how Everybody wanna run when they hear that sound Everybody think they're hard until they face hit ground Everybody make a choice, it is not profound Either get money or die Get faded or die Get famous or die Get that stainless or die Get your hands in the sky or get it between the eyes Get money or die, get money or die