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