Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Pa-Blow Escablow , by - Raekwon. Release date: 31.12.2002
Song language: English
Pa-Blow Escablow |
| Hug your right hand, jumped off the plane, kissed the white man |
| A steady act, curly hair, chubby, fly mustache nigga |
| Money was long, and plush hat, shit cost nine thousand |
| Picture me in the housing, serving much crack |
| Cat look at me, I’m real, lobbin' on the field |
| For real, I shot niggas shakin' their hands, I’m ill |
| Damn, one of them business man’s |
| I just seen 'em murk a nigga, but he jerked him at the same time |
| (That's fam. (Polite: oh shit)) |
| That’s fam, one of those Columbians who got money |
| One of those niggas might try to get up on me |
| Yo, damn, I need to eat, and I’m a man |
| I’m a stand up, nigga, I’mma handle when I’m makin' my plan |
| Pop, I’ll take two hundred bricks, hit me |
| One helicopter had the super bungalo with the van |
| All ill technology to watch if I ran, he only gave me |
| Woody gave sixty eight other black mans |
| Now. |
| if Pa-Blow would’ve kept it gangsta |
| None of this shit would’ve never happened |
| Now the DEA was on his ass |
| Slick Saucony’s on, big homey takin' a blast or somethin' |
| Handsome big niggas around him |
| Surroundin' him with big glasses on, drinkin' on lances, fam |
| Most them niggas fastin' |
| Cuz when he fed niggas after that, pussy and grass |
| Had made backs, eight labs, his date was Miss Mass- |
| Achusetts, Cap eatin' fruit, tongue in his ass |
| You can’t fuck with the cartel, you barked at it |
| Jabbed her and shot her in the back, I can’t stand the bird |
| Word to furs, I need big wizes |
| He looked at me, «Huh, exactly, Chef go after big bitches» |
| Frozen burner henchman, flash the great |
| Lookin' nine on me, rhinestones, no, them shits is dime stones |
| Hold a million dollar pound, bust something, don’t trust nothin' |
| I’m in shock, starin' it down |
| Now. |
| here’s where this shit gets crazy! |
| The killas increase, he fell, but |
| Maybe a little bit, the Mediene Cartel will fail |
| Diego his horse, with George Young |
| Yo, will argue over large sales, hittin' Cuba with lumps, yeah |
| Call them niggas drug barons, eighty billion workers sniff |
| Gettin' lift ownin' Miami yo |
| Flips got bigger, makin' more trails |
| Set it out of nowhere when coppin' a jail, I’m eatin' fresh veal |
| Pa-Blow, the largest nigga involved |
| The arsenal will have sixty three hundred murders |
| Livin' in apartments, wild he violated flight a Bianca |
| Took two hundred niggas down but two men houndin' him |
| The fuckin' cockroches posin' the on six million dollars sold |
| We’re eatin' enchilada, goat cheese pasta |
| Yeah we’re drippin' it with more salsa |
| And then they rushed in, found him on the roof dead in his boxers |
| But it wasn’t him |
| The story. |
| oh shit. |
| mothafucka! |
| Hahahahaha |