Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Thousands , by - Chino XL. Song from the album Here To Save You All, in the genre ПопRelease date: 04.04.1996
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: American
Song language: English
Thousands |
| Hook: |
| Fire and brimstone is our life’s stage |
| So we pack enough heat that we could melt the next iceage |
| A rich nigga is still a nigga, just harder to fade (why?) |
| There’s thousands of ways to get payed (x5) |
| I’m that type of rapper that’ll take half an album in advance |
| (And do the hustle) and I don’t mean that 70's dance |
| The king of punch lines, I do what I gotta for my bank roll |
| Slicing yayo with powder with my bass latter gettin' dasterly for salary |
| Fiends dream of stabbing me, Bo Diggity is never snagging me |
| Chino equality for the high or low black son I’m betting on that |
| Seeking universal mastery |
| Should I put platrum plaques on my wall like a Latin art gallery |
| Ol’Dirty should of FUCKED Maria, my rap the barbed wire fences |
| Ancestors Egyptian princes, showing you a view to a kill |
| Giving you fatal glimpses, stacking papes like there’s 10 of me |
| Your hootie’s an obsenity, corporate at the pope |
| But shooting bullets with no memory |
| Hook: |
| «I gotta get mine, I gotta get cash» |
| I need that cream split and I’ve seen |
| Enough cowboy movies to know a white man’s hand shake don’t mean shit |
| So back in 9−5 I said «Fuck a 9 to 5» I ain’t John Travolta |
| Gun in holster, man Stayin' Alive, from New Jerz to Cali |
| Get my swerve, servin' silence, ultra violence |
| A lot of islands, avoiding niggas that’s spineless |
| I got the lay, who’s beefing this kid heartless |
| Harry reasons vary, shot him at the vally |
| Took the Jag keys from the valay, Robert Shalay |
| Top down drove away, pumpin' Hip Hop Hooray |
| I’m so full of shame, it’s awful strange |
| Local crew complain I’m spitting out more keys than an opera sings vocal range |
| Fuck playin' ceelo, half latino, Chino exquistness, the streets bizness |
| Never personal, shorties still in Monteros for deneros |
| Way past the current few, violate mine and get done like Al Sharps perms do |
| My rents due, gotta make that revenue |
| You dodge bullets like Bobby Brown on my avenue |
| Yellow nigga with an attitude, Tommy Hilfigure booster too |
| From the morph of the Martinees bitches from Catholic school |
| Uptown they call my Parabal, crack ho selling genitals |
| Trading they souls for Salindriacal capsals |
| My products is unhabitable, please don’t feed the animals |
| (Why?) New Jeru is a fuckin' zoo |
| Hook |
| For my peoples that’s making rap fans |
| Downin' niggas with credit card scams, jackin' strickly Toyota land |
| Cruisers making moves in large proportions |
| Dressing like white boys, sticking up Norstoms |
| I done seen niggas taht go from college graduations |
| To illegal cannibus connection with Jamacians |
| Hooked up with Asians for Motor-Rola flip phone activating chips |
| Selling exotic dips as they occupation, do what you gotta |
| Bitches turn tricks like a Globetrotter |
| Got adults playing cops and robbers, it’s hot like lava |
| Ghetto kids breeding Rotweilders |
| Selling 'em flipping grip for product no problem |
| Genius niggas pull 6 figure burglaries, fuck a wanted sign |
| They can afford plastic surgury |
| I’m a surviver, street scholar |
| Smoking a pontom leaf with pitbulls see drippin' saliva |
| For the mighty dollar |
| Hook |