Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Son Get Wrec, artist - Black Moon. Album song Enta Da Stage, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 18.10.1993
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Nervous
Song language: English
Son Get Wrec |
| This is a warning I advise you all to stay alert, yo |
| Reals grab the nine, cause it’s time to go to work |
| Ask Dee, rest the rhythm, I hit 'em, then I just split 'em |
| Best to believe that’s the way you should’ve did him |
| Backing niggas down with the heat, feel the flame |
| Ripping through your flesh, can you handle the pain |
| I don’t give a fuck, I never did, I never will |
| A little Crooklyn knight nigga with the skill to kill |
| Which to the point, I will extend the trey pound |
| Nobody makes a move, nobody makes a sound |
| Catch mad wreck, raise hell with my crew |
| Chillin' in the east as I sip on a brew |
| Drugs no frills cause the dutch is the master |
| An individual who blows up because I have to |
| Bust mad shots, it’s time for me to misbehave |
| Whoever doesn’t like it we can take it to the grave |
| SON GET WREC |
| SON GET WREC |
| SON GET WREC |
| It’s time for you to represent |
| I’m a grave digging nigga that can hold his own weight |
| They tried to flex on the Five now they lives is at fate |
| They didn’t think I had enough heart to set off the spark |
| I’m a shorty getting naughty getting ill after dark |
| My eyes are bloodshot red |
| All the hell I feel has set the stage |
| In my kingdom |
| And not your rule in every state |
| The war has begun |
| I’m about just blow, so pass the hand grenade |
| It’s time to let you know |
| My feats, too deep, don’t sleep, plus they real |
| Three slugs through your grill |
| The pain you will feel |
| Rippin', wrecking, causing mad drama |
| You acted like you want it, now you crippled like your momma |
| SON GET WRECK |
| SON GET WRECK |
| SON GET WRECK |
| It’s time for you to represent |
| Spread your wings and prepare to meet your maker |
| Fucking with the Five, I’m like your average life taker |
| Deaths in the street, in the borough known as Brooklyn |
| Where niggas lose they life and they get their shit tooken |
| Guilters run it all, don’t even try to riff |
| Shoved down his throat was the nickel-plated fifth |
| Shoot out his brains, left them on the dinner table |
| Went home, puffed the herbs and watched a little cable |
| Just layin' back, thinking of the things I do |
| Throw on my Timberlands, grabbed my crooked eye brew |
| Well my man Dru, told him to meet me at the spot |
| 'Cause things is getting hot, too many bodies in the lot |
| Just the other day they raped a girl in the exit |
| Put her in a coma, now she’s three months pregnant |
| Damn it’s so real in the heart of Bucktown |
| Make a nigga think before he dare fuck around |
| SON GET WRECK |
| SON GET WRECK |
| SON GET WRECK |
| It’s time for you to represent |