Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wheel Chairs, artist - B.G.. Album song Chopper City, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 25.11.1996
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Cash Money
Song language: English
Wheel Chairs |
Keep my nina for self protection |
Just in case a reppin ass nigga wanna start reppin |
I’m bout money and that’s all we wanna see |
And if ya creep nigga watch out for the B.G. |
Chopper City posse nigga, and we roll deep |
4 deep in the black on black Caprice |
Slangin is my thang man, I’m out for paper |
Tryin to catch a fuckin drain, lookin for kaperz |
My people say it’s a shame |
They say I hate ya, but I tell 'em it’s all in the game |
I’m a ducht taper |
I’ma a young money maker, fuck these hoez |
I can’t be no faker, I play wit my nose |
And out your yay, I’ll rape ya But on the downlow, boy I’ll playa hate ya Ain’t that cold |
If ya got it hide, on the real |
Cause me and my niggas ride, and we kill |
Causin homicides, that’s the deal |
I’m bringin what a nigga feel |
Caps get peeled |
Niggas in wheel chairs, half dead as it is |
T-shirts wit pictures representin dead peers |
9 millimeters, glock, pump |
Ride guns, all that start funk |
Look out you bitch, you |
Watch out for 2 twos |
Automatics, with the static that ya talkin |
Stop ya from walkin with the Calico, stop ya hoes |
>From playin wit me, my nine stayin wit me Niggas in banged up cars wit battle scars |
With shit bags attached to they drawers |
Take this time to pause |
For the not so lucky |
Weak like a sick puppy |
Fools that lost they name in the game 'cause they wouldn’t up it Big money, heavy weight, make no mistake |
Triple beam wit da lean, the man wit da cake |
Shake don’t stir my drank, nigga you aint |
Gon’get out alive without spendin five on somethin |
If ya wanna keep ya heart pumpin |
Tha downtown, Nino Brown dumpin |
Cause I done killed mo’niggas than cancer |
Lil B.G. |
won’t ya take this timeout to answer |
Nigga, A Are you faster than a gun? |
Nigga, B Will I shoot ya if ya run? |
Nigga, C I ain’t showin no love |
Nigga, D All tha motherfuckin above |
Nigga thought I was just bout rappin, he disrespect |
Now they wonder what the fuck happened, I hit his set |
Rippin up da whole block and it ain’t no stoppin |
When da chopper get ta choppin, you get ta droppin |
Niggas dead, niggas hoppin, tryin to get away |
But they can’t get away from this K, nigga I don’t play |
V.L. |
got street sweepers, 9 millies |
All us night creepers, actin silly |
Dirty 30's, AR-15's |
Nose dirty, totin uzi machines |
Brother, L.B., Donald D., Chun Chi |
Real niggas off Valence street |
Crazy G, Big G., Big Moe, Lil’P. |
All them niggas down wit me |
L.T., Cool Billy, Cooley |
Popeye and my nigga Larry |
So please, at ease, freeze, get on ya knees |
Pussy niggas stuntin like ya got keys |
I’ll put your face on a fresh T If the cheese over your head start at 5 G’s |
'Cause I’m the motherfucker keep the coroner to work |
Settin examples puttin niggas 6 in the dirt |
I put that nigga on that T-shirt that you be wearin |
Me and my click do that dirt that them niggas be sayin |
They doin, but Uptown doin that |
Get in the chair, bitch rat, then got hit in the back |
Pussy, got rolled on round |
I mean rolled on round |