Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Stop, Chill , by - Beanie Sigel. Song from the album The Truth, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 31.12.1999
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Stop, Chill |
| New shit |
| WSUP! |
| WSUP! |
| WSUP! |
| Stop, chill, relax, and let this nigga Sigel flow |
| I know you can’t believe the flow, you can’t cope I flow dope |
| Like a key ya blow |
| You like naw, Beans, same nigga from 21st and Sigel street |
| When it’s beef people let them desert eagle speak |
| So whoever, wherever I don’t care where we meet |
| Stop, chill, don’t talk shit sideways outta your mouth |
| I will slap spit sideways outta your mouth |
| Bitch niggas talk indirect it don’t matter |
| When you got snitch niggas right in your set |
| That’s why I know where you niggas sling coke and pump D at Same spot that you liable to see me at Gun and a mask, one in the stash where the seed at Stop, all my young bucks huggin the block |
| Stop puttin drugs in your sock |
| You makin it easy for the cops to catch you |
| They hooked to that stash and that trash and that bag of pretzels |
| You gotta hustle smarter than that |
| Cop coke harder than that, keep your dough apart from your crack |
| Keep a stash in the dark for the trap |
| Man you never know when the narks gon launch an attack |
| HOOK: repeat 2X |
| Stop, I know you cats livin a lie |
| You niggas rats you aint willin to die |
| Chill, I spit it for my niggas keepin it street |
| Keepin they steel, all my niggas keepin it real |
| It’s still vex in the game tryin na earn respect |
| I got the best of out and y’all aint heard shit yet |
| You can shuffle up the cards I’ma learn the deck |
| When I do the game is mine, man I’m aimin high |
| Niggas talk about guns don’t be carryin none |
| Every two hammers I cock I’m buryin one |
| I’ma dress in all stash this year, whenever I’m near |
| From the First Union, to Madison Square |
| Stop, chill, cuz I know y’all niggas like Mac fuckin that track |
| Let me show you somethin dog it aint nothin for Mac |
| It come all natural like I’m bustin my gat |
| Or I’m stuck in a spot crushin the crack |
| Got ice in a pot, fluffin the crack |
| Takin backs to the block so don’t stuff in them packs |
| Doin life on the Roc aint nothin fuckin with that |
| Me, jail, dog, you can put me under the ground |
| Where I’m from all my niggas they from under the ground |
| You can hear us when we come it’s a thunderous sound |
| Trees, stompin, Roc jeans and a bunch of white T troopers |
| Stay on post with they toast and they like to shoot you |
| Philly cats no rack, big guns and Sumas |
| HOOK 2X |