Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song One Shot Deal, artist - Beanie Sigel. Album song The B.Coming, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
One Shot Deal |
One shot deal, one shot, one kill |
Hit you with the one shot skill |
Bullets lift you up like you poppin' on the wheel |
Feel I can’t die when I’m poppin' on the pill |
So real that it feel, keep Cochran on my heels |
Who rock the black and back out? |
Now the MAC back out, just bout to blackout |
Got the ROC on my back, SP on my chain |
Shooters on the block slingin' P last name |
Outta hot pink thangs like Camron Range |
The cocaine cowboy at work |
I put ya niggaz in the dirt for one like Dirt |
Concealed hammer won’t jam or won’t chirp |
Catch you on my second merk |
Fresh outta jail, ice grill gat to smirk |
Bitches on the waste can’t serve 'em |
ROC without Jay won’t work? |
Shit like we ain’t here, actin' like SP ain’t here |
How ya’ll niggaz can’t see that clear? |
Clear? |
Yeah, slow all the way down young scrapper |
Pump ya brakes real fast, before ya crash |
Crack ya head on the dash |
I put ya body in a cast, keep my Shotty on blast |
Hard heads don’t get the picture until they see the flash |
You ain’t ballin', you pump fakin' till you found in ya trunk naked |
Four pound to ya crown like, «Where the paper?» |
B. Sig, cold crook, I trap paper like notebook |
When the hot water disappear like when coke cook |
Then resurface, its Sig. |
Berkowitz, bitch I’m sick |
Leave that ass like Dama, Sig. |
heat that ass like sauna |
Stretch ya body out like recliner |
Stretch my middle finger to your honor |
Like, «Fuck the world», that’s my persona, love drama |
Drop a buildin' like Osama, you vagina |
I know you wish you never met me like Carl Thomas |
Try to forget me like all silence |
Fuckin' with a vet be, all problems |
I’m not about the threats B, I’m all promise |
Before «The Truth», position in the booth |
As a young scrap, I was vicious as a youth |
Kept a gat movin' pigeons in the Coupe |
You was strapped, then positioned on the stoop |
Stay strapped, put my pistol on shoot |
Mac take ya «Juice"like Bishop on the roof |
I had ya pissin' in ya trunk like a roof |
Bullets hit ya chest like a blunt rolled loose |
I’m that corn liquor nigga, 100 proof |
I bring the storm, all you niggaz lace ya boots |
Better yet, pull out ya strings, make a noose |
Hang yaself, here’s a deuce, deuce |
Bang yaself like Cheddar Bob |
I’m in the hood like ST tall cat |
Crooked Letter ISPCO, nigga |
Yes I |
Yes I |
Matta fact |
Yeah, Yeah |
Bring it back |
Bring it back, me, Doc, America’s blunted |
Not from there, but I’m Philly Most Wanted |
Drop and roll, when my biscuit boil |
Talk is greasy, tongue with Crisco oil |
Streets is mine, check my flow online |
Bricks, two on the hip, reach for the sky |
You and ya Burberry suit is buried alive |
On top of the Empire, dare me to dive |
Wee, there I go, no parachute |
Jackass like Knoxville, hot as Cancun |
Chest hair is baboon, Redman rip the show |
I be the raw in ya bitches nose |
She be goin' to the bathroom, sniffin' blow |
Like, «Oh Docta shit, my man a joke» |
I know, I be strapped with a double 4, 4 |
And a Slim Jim to open ya Cadillac door |
In the Bricks you hear them guns |
Rat a tat, boom |
Any nigga get X’ed out like TicTacToe |
Any bitch that know, Redman goin' the distance |
We ain’t tryin' to get fucked for instance |
When you bust baby, gon light the insence |
Pass me the rag, hop back in the Jag |
I stole out the showroom with the pricetag |
I wrote this rhyme off 25 blunt drags |
Hear that sound leave a block hunchback |
Killa House, understand prick |
We ain’t gon stop till we «Rich bitch» |
Holla back, Redman, Beanie Sigel |
Killa House |