Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Discipline, artist - D-Block. Album song D-Block CD Mixtape, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 10.07.2006
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Discipline |
| Straw… 354… Ghost… |
| Feel this… yeah |
| Let me break it down I’mma nigga to Ryde or Die homey |
| 2 Gunz Up or they either on my side homey |
| I ain’t first base so I won’t let you slide on me |
| I ain’t Great Adventure so I won’t let you Ryde on me |
| You opened ya mouth but believe I can shut it nigga |
| P ain’t the barber but ya face I can shut it nigga |
| Spent a half a million on the lawyer nigga |
| Extraordinary Gentlemen just like Tom Sawyer nigga, yeah |
| Bust the rifle from far away |
| And I’m still tryna figure the triflin’est part of day |
| Is it morning when the fiends cop |
| Or is it noon when the willies wake up from they dream ock |
| Or is it night time when we all grind till the green come |
| I’m smoked out with a machine gun |
| I’m in something all black know I’m always on the lean son |
| Steady lookin' for the cream ma |
| And I’m probably with a bad bitch |
| But I’m usually for delf where I’m headed where the cash is |
| When you come through the hood get a pass like Steve Nash kid |
| Cause shit thicker than molasses; |
| get blasted |
| They say you only really as good as ya last rhyme |
| So I make sure my next one bring back time |
| So niggas can reminiese when they last had shine |
| Through my lines see that’s heart felt |
| Make a cold heart melt |
| Gring ain’t for everybody homie get a new route |
| Re-in' with the same shit you only see the same shit |
| 'Se goin' through them shoot outs my niggas did the same shit |
| And they bang 'fits and they 'on't care who you came with |
| Me I just happen to spit and got a knack for flippin' packs on the strip |
| Turnin' rags to chips put that hawk in ya face 'fore I squeeze my clip |
| I 'on't clap back I pop first read my lips |
| 3−5-4 nigga the shit so tell ya men |
| And for my nigga P I’m puttin' it in till this shit end |
| You know what it is one for the Block two for the Team |
| Screamin' 2 Gunz Up while I’m strippin' ya gleam yo |
| Ever since Straw small truck the mercedes |
| You’d think that I’d be dumpin' a pump the way it drive the streets crazy |
| The flows crack 60 for a verse is a pack |
| And 16 keep the fiends comin' back |
| It got me where I can’t be without my hard hat |
| Teflon long sleeve and a large gat |
| Heat seekin' shells attract to ya body heat |
| And even bullet time couldn’t help you dodge that |
| It’s too easy niggas can’t handle my beef it’s too greasy |
| 500 SL Benz with 3 TVs |
| Narc scope radar lens with green screens; |
| built in beams |
| And some eagles in the trunk with the money and caine |
| Tryna figure out the best route boat or tha train |
| Cause wit 9:11 crime feds watchin' the planes |
| It’s them Arliss boys at it again, immaculate mane |
| Comin' to box the S knockin' A Tribe Called Quest |
| I’m comin' for you bad guys like I’m Elliot Ness |
| I’m with the host the Ghost |
| We gave you toast to coast it’s 354 bitch you supposed to know |
| I got it, you get it, you pay it, I spray it, you wit it |
| There never been a time in my life that I couldn’t get it |
| Still got my eye on the prize, still in the hood with them guys |
| Still got the hood and gloves, the ski mask for diguise |
| Motherfuckers been hatin' you ready to dance with Satan |
| The Rugers cocked; |
| I’m patiently waitin' |
| P just gimme the word on these herbs that’s my word |
| Mail his head to his mom in a jar that preserve |
| Hannibal Lector style nigga dinner served |
| Still got birds with curves that move birds |
| Gucci frame Donna Karen bitches that’s nerds |
| Get in where yo fit in motherfucker that’s my word |