Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song More Crime, artist - Cormega. Album song Legal Hustle, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 24.05.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Koch
Song language: English
More Crime |
-=Jacka talking=- |
Feelin' the pain baby |
You know what I’m sayin'? |
You want some of that pain |
Super Silver haze |
Some of that purple stuff |
Purple boy |
Smokin' a stick of that Barney |
But not the purple dinosaur |
That shit that niggas dyin' for |
Shit my niggas ridin' on |
Sav wit the windows up |
See the smoke pour out |
Soon as I open the door |
Soon as I go to the store |
Voices like «Whoa! |
Who got it?» |
«You know who got it nigga.» |
Summertime comin' up |
Can’t breathe without it |
Bring the Hpnotiq |
Bring the heam |
Mix that shit that turn green |
Now break down the purple |
It’s softly rough |
Milwaukee Bucks |
I’m from the place where they grow that stuff |
You got your girl in the clutch |
Just give me a light |
I’ll take that bitch |
If she ain’t give me head all night |
Sellin' dope is cool |
But rap is on my mind |
It’s hard to do them both |
And get my bread at the same time |
High as fuck off purple |
Man I’m out my mind |
Gotta grab my strap |
Boy it’s time to do some more crime |
And all my hoes say |
«Jack, you’re my soul inspiration» |
Even though your soul crack across the nation" |
Caught the cases kept me quiet like meditation |
I say «baby I’m just really wastin' |
A lot of breath on you for the sport |
You think I’m nice but that’s really not me |
I live the that you never gon' see |
Niggas fight, they don’t war like me |
It’s the last of my kind |
There’s no more like me |
Trynna make it on the street |
Is like swimmin' through the sea |
Trynna make it to the other side of life» |
My young nigga say he tired of life |
And now realize he addicted to the white |
Got sucked up by the war |
Trynna make things right, right |
He said *echoes* |
«It's rainin' outside and the difference between |
Us is a white bus wit cages inside |
When I come home |
Still face the cop cars wit gauges inside |
Yo on the real it’s yo rap is what kept me alive» |
He said *echoes* |
«How could I change I don’t know shit |
War on the streets niggas trippin' over old shit |
Fuck it make the coke flip |
I’m a drug dealer but my father is a cold pimp |
It look good but ain’t cool like cold shrimp» |
Back in the bay Allah who Akbar didn’t understand what he meant |
Didn’t force it on me for that |
He and my closest homie |
All my dean I’m in the life of crime |
Allah is always on my mind |
All the filth, all the crime |
I see straight through it |
There the hood go |
Let’s scrape through it |
Gotta be a real nigga just to make music where I’m from nigga |
Sellin' dope is cool |
But rap is on my mind |
Sellin' dope is cool |
But rap is on my mind |
It’s hard to do them both |
And get my bread at the same time |
It’s hard to do them both |
And get my bread at the same time |