Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Deadly Zone [Street], artist - Rappin' NoydAlbum song Deadly Zone - EP, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 14.09.1998
Record label: The Orchard
Song language: English
Deadly Zone [Street] |
I saw these fools tryin to get around, tryin to let me down |
And all dat, ha but I got an easier way to let dem drown |
Wit these Guns of Navarrone, I shall shoot dem like Al Capone |
Take dem to the zones of bones, like dat WELL |
Yo, dunn, they tried to knock me down, bury me under |
Big pipes soundin' like thunder |
Skated by the skin of my teeth |
I had to put a man in his place last week |
Now, why you wanna come at me? |
I’m the wrong nigga to approach like that, homes |
Wrong nigga for threats, lone nigga wit long chrome |
And we can dance till one of us drop |
You score points fallin' wit good formation |
I’m the wrong nigga for patience, wrong one at dunn |
The very last nigga you should ever blast your gun |
To the floor, actin like you goin' to war |
Now, you fucked up, here come a real rocket launcher |
Flame thrower, rule wit a iron rod |
That be the Ruger, y’all niggas keep tryin' hard |
But who the loser when you can’t walk your hood at night |
And you can’t come outside without fear? |
Am I in your thoughts often? |
While you be walkin? |
Foot soldier catch you at the store’s corner |
Keep me on your mind and don’t slumber |
Man, the minute you slip wit those, that’s your ass |
M-O-B-B dunn, let’s get it on, dunn |
Wit Bounty Killer, yo, it’s like this, dunn |
Aiyyo, cock that shit, pop that shit |
Squeeze off, let 'em know how real this is |
M-O-B-B, D-double-E-P wit Bounty Killer |
No other gun runners keep a round like this |
From Q-U-double-E-N-S |
My bomb borough, till the day of my death |
Whether in shit I been in |
Runnin' down the block, sprayin shots wit the Lindon, listen |
We all been through ac-tion, you know the last me blastin' |
The last man standin', pack shit longer than bare wake |
Neither the jake nor the snakes gon' stop it |
You know the Mobb lettin' off rockets |
Gun burners spit like lungies, dummies |
Still nuttin' pop but the shells |
These ain’t words from hell, these are slugs, somethin' you feel |
A gun runner nigga for real, nigga |
Yo, hear my gat blow, make you spit out crack the actual |
That brand new six that you couldn’t seem to whip |
Empty the clip, make sure no friendly get hit |
While you layin' bloodied up in the six |
Flee the front-line, dismantle gat and bounce |
Then watch the twelve o’clock news and hear 'em shout you out |
Plug leak, slip rug right from under your feet |
You runnin the streets, you don’t want no problems wit us |
Everyday is like 4th of July to us |
Henny in my cup beside the gat you’ll find in my clutch |
Interfere wit the plan and you will get touched |
Let the liquor talk for you and you will get touched |
Full fledge like Ra, let em Know The Ledge |
While you slippin' off edge, your shorty’s givin' me head |
Cockin' 'em legs like guns when I’m cockin' to spray |
Poppin' your way, sendin' shit that’s hot your way |