Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song F-L-A Team, artist - Celph Titled. Album song The Gatalog, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 15.10.2002
Record label: Demigodz Enterprises
Song language: English
F-L-A Team |
| In 1998 a rhyme commando unit dropped a classic joint by the name of ‘Fortress' |
| These men promptly emerged from the Fahrenheit 813 and to the Tampa Bay |
| underground. |
| Today, still wanted by the masses, they survive as soldiers of hip |
| hop. |
| If you’ve got wack shit, if no one else can help and if you can find them, |
| then maybe, you can hire the F-L-A team |
| (Murdock) |
| Yo don’t you love when a fam come together |
| Murdock, Celph Titled Tino Vega, 813 |
| The F-L-A team, it ain’t no stopping us now |
| It ain’t going to stop |
| (Verse 1: Murdock) |
| Mother fuckers better guard your grill |
| When F-L-A team gripping the steel |
| We sitting with your bitch, slipping her pills |
| Guerilla pimping style, gripping a mil |
| When I’m flipping the real |
| Y’all better go half before I get ill |
| Murdock come through with the chopper cocked |
| Pop, pop get up off my block, I won’t stop |
| Until the cops are dropped and drops are copped |
| And comes to the spot where my dog RK flash the rock |
| Stash the Glock so when it’s time for the war |
| We showing up at the door, so we conquistador |
| Hop out the truck blowing smoke from the raw |
| I’m a stay high whether I’m home or on tour |
| Spit rap, flip, let a mother fuck flip that |
| Whatever get the money, I’m with that |
| And we get too deep, we better get that |
| If you cock blocking on my crew, better quit that |
| Y’all chickens in the club better get back |
| Fake cats trying to give me left had daps |
| Shorty rock look good can I hit that |
| Come on back to the crib and let me split that |
| You with that? |
| No doubt, I can dig that |
| G money, hell no I can’t have that |
| Smack your ass to the past like a flashback |
| And you ain’t smoking my weed, bitch pass that |
| All my niggas where you at (We right here) |
| Hold it down (No doubt) |
| F-L-A Team, niggas in the 813 reign supreme |
| All my bitches where you at (We right here) |
| Hold it down (No doubt) F-L-A team |
| Bitches in the 813 reign supreme |
| (Verse 2: Celph Titled) |
| Yo, fuck that, niggas wanna rumble with us |
| They going to see stomach and guts as soon as we bust |
| Fully loaded ammo, commando, Panhandle Rambo |
| Jumping out of man holes rocking camo |
| Niggas know me from the way I hold heat |
| All this with full clips and sawed off shit |
| Floridius, amphibious nigga |
| Tampa where I’m from |
| Real heavy hitters |
| Teflon vest, Vietnam bomb threats, infrared scope low |
| Hit you with a chokehold Walkmen 2-D |
| Celph Titled keep an oozie |
| Dime bitches be like (Who's he?) |
| This is the next level when we spit the heavy metal |
| Certified incredible and we stay ahead of you |
| Ghetto to borough we rep thorough |
| M 16 bazerko, that’s for sure, though |
| Grenade shrapnel, tear gas capsules |
| Mother fucking surplus, What you want asshole |
| Grip the Glock 9, nigga with the hot rhymes |
| Get your shit fucked up just off one line |
| 8−1-3 to the NYC representation we stay blazing |
| Strictly for clapping, semi auto action |
| War head get trapped in all that blasting |
| All my niggas where you at (We right here) |
| Hold it down (No doubt) |
| F-L-A Team, niggas in the 813 reign supreme |
| All my bitches where you at (We right here) |
| Hold it down (No doubt) F-L-A team |
| Bitches in the 813 reign supreme |
| (Verse 3: Tino Vega) |
| You want to battle back with your averages raps |
| Got your savage strap, dick rider |
| Let the rougers fire |
| Camouflage hummer with the big tires |
| Desert Storm attire |
| Walkman nigga, never retire |
| Tino Vega blow your L’s high up |
| F-L-A team we keep our guns high up |
| Atomically while you make your brain fire |
| With the desert boy, a quick dry up |
| In the tropics you can’t top us |
| All you knockers really need to stop it |
| Word to logic digging in our pockets, yo |
| Hard head nigga like Canada bald bitches |
| Liquefy missiles try to miss you |
| Sludge boil when they call me leave enough gums sore |
| Can you corny, one shot from the oozie pump |
| Finish ‘em up, nigga’s whole body jump, end this shit up |
| You got your rhymes sucker, use your chips |
| Don’t step out of line make me bruise your clique |
| I don’t really give a damn who you with |
| Y’all better know who’s cassette this is |
| You can pump it in the trunk of your Lexuses |
| About to show the whole world who the geneix is boy |
| All my niggas where you at (We right here) |
| Hold it down (No doubt) |
| F-L-A Team, niggas in the 813 reign supreme |
| All my bitches where you at (We right here) |
| Hold it down (No doubt) F-L-A team |
| Bitches in the 813 reign supreme |
| (Tino Vega) That’s right |