Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song One Bomb State, artist - CES Cru. Album song 13, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 27.08.2012
Record label: Strange
Song language: English
One Bomb State |
| I can’t kill them enough, my camp can’t call It |
| Spike the punch, counselor alcoholic |
| Brain like an abyss, and blow that cancer |
| Get locked for killing a can-can dancer |
| Can’t stop the villain, I’m feelin' myself now |
| Running a couple of times, I’m feelin' myself out |
| Fuck, better you bet now, bet on your boy |
| I’m an idea, not a thing; |
| I cannot be destroyed |
| When they come, gon' get it, getting rid of 'em all |
| Cut life’s cables kid, bet I get on the ball |
| But I hit them all and they just targets |
| Everybody claiming they fly, never really been on a starship |
| Killer City cinema so sad it seems |
| I’m in between the sheets with a bag of dreams |
| And the option is I could bust it at the seams |
| And I’m ready for the Feddy and the half of Nin, c’mon |
| We coming all black, gray and red all day |
| Fall back, me say there ain’t shit safe |
| Holla oh-ay-oh! |
| Run far 'way |
| Oh-ay-oh! |
| One bomb state |
| In the tall grass lay, gunfire rain |
| Fall back and pray, the one God save |
| Holla oh-ay-oh! |
| Run far 'way |
| Oh-ay-oh! |
| One bomb state |
| Can’t get Phat here, go figure you fatso |
| These cattles you can’t lasso |
| KCMO, this ain’t Lupe Fiasco |
| So watch your spit talk, Tobasco |
| Can’t bust in a cipher without a passcode |
| Prolly can’t spit bars without lying about your cash flow |
| Catch goosebumps off of my last ho |
| Bada bing boom Anthony Soprano |
| Smoke both hands on a piano |
| Brain lock with brain matter on the back handle, Mickey Mantle |
| What you think my city’s on the first 48 for |
| Can’t leave here without your face sore |
| Can’t tell me I don’t know something I do know |
| I can’t not do something that I said I’m gonna do so |
| Now I’m looking for that ass up in Chuco |
| 'Cause I won’t give a joke until you go |
| We coming all black, gray and red all day |
| Fall back, me say there ain’t shit safe |
| Holla oh-ay-oh! |
| Run far 'way |
| Oh-ay-oh! |
| One bomb state |
| In the tall grass lay, gunfire rain |
| Fall back and pray, the one God save |
| Holla oh-ay-oh! |
| Run far 'way |
| Oh-ay-oh! |
| One bomb state |
| They can’t know my style, they can’t see me |
| Too hot for radio, show banned from TV |
| They can’t read me, Elway running a play |
| Running a route, take one and I’m out |
| The Champeezee, done without the |
| Son, I’m about to stampede them |
| Big throat what I’m about, can’t reason |
| Around if it needs, 'less we can count it |
| It’s not real, we stuck in a box still |
| But tryin' to be big as the Biggie and Pac bill |
| The Killer City Commitee, we can’t pity ya |
| Rather you clap for me than give me Chlamydia |
| Flippin' the beat from Tripoli out in Libya |
| The jam shaking the fans, hot |
| You can’t can or stamp, I know Kansas clubs on the low |
| Kansas folks can’t stand us |
| We coming all black, gray and red all day |
| Fall back, me say there ain’t shit safe |
| Holla oh-ay-oh! |
| Run far 'way |
| Oh-ay-oh! |
| One bomb state |
| In the tall grass lay, gunfire rain |
| Fall back and pray, the one God save |
| Holla oh-ay-oh! |
| Run far 'way |
| Oh-ay-oh! |
| One bomb state |