Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shark Tank, artist - Da$h. Album song 17 More Minutes, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 10.09.2015
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Hz GLOBAL
Song language: English
Shark Tank |
| How about dope? |
| Grass? |
| Hash? |
| Coke? |
| Mescaline? |
| Downers? |
| Nebutol? |
| Tuonal? |
| Chloral Hydrates? |
| How about any uppers? |
| Amphetamines? |
| No, I’m not interested in that stuff |
| Crystal meth, I can get ya crystal meth |
| Nitrous Oxide, how about that? |
| How about a Cadillac? |
| I get ya a brand new Cadillac |
| With the pink slip for two grand |
| H’z Global, Black Market shit (yo, yo, yo) |
| My niggas know (Yeah So, Yeah So) |
| Yo, yo (Yeah So, Yeah So) |
| Dolla still thugging regal, it’s the tan skin Bugsy Siegel |
| Riding in a bucket with two bitches and a rusty eagle |
| You know it’s nothing, cup of dope got me David Ruffin |
| Dwell on this game, now we lunging on my way to the luncheon |
| Only jewelry I wore was copper and steel |
| Still I pop-up on random blocks for appeal, then it’s real |
| I’m at the benefit for kids with better needs |
| The only thing it did was better off my jeans, mass extortion |
| Crack recording raps from Jim Morrison orphan |
| You only see me when it’s violence like a shark fin |
| The boss man, pulling strings like I’m Santana |
| The bandana from high school, claim my damn hammer |
| With bad grammar I did all this |
| Catch me on Tunisian beaches off a tab of acid |
| Eating red snapper with a goddess, got Parisian features |
| You niggas novice, should observe the teachers |
| Get clapped tryna short or cheat us |
| No cuts, no breaks, get it motherfucking straight nigga |
| You interested in a automatic? |
| It’s a Colt .25 automatic |
| Knock on the locked door, package get dropped off |
| Bricks on a drop cloth, sick with the handle |
| I push the pill like I’m hot sauce |
| Cough up the knots and get knocked off |
| The top of the drop porsche get chopped off |
| The bitch with me is a throwaway |
| She roll my dope, we blow a O a day |
| She suck me then she go away |
| This big chopper will turn a nigga to saw dust |
| The bitch with me the same color as dandruff |
| I need my space, made a right and pulled up on eighth |
| I move the base, posted on the crate |
| Right on 38th in front Domingo shit |
| Strictly 'bout my chips, I’m on some Pringle shit |
| I could feed the hood off a single flip |
| True shit, move eight balls like pool sticks |
| I’m all up in your bitch head like q-tips |
| Smith & Wesson, nine milli' my favorite weapon |
| Blue cheese is my favorite dressing |
| (Niggas better get to ducking when the pistol scream |
| I could bag a fifty bundle from the triple beam) |
| Gold; |
| bury it in the sand, count up a band |
| Light a blunt, reassure I’m the man |
| The turtle run a race, homicide from the shell shot |
| Slip the cuete through the mail box |
| A gauge to my head and the cell locked |
| All my gun shells stay well stocked |
| The Art of War, cup of Henny in this office war |
| Look back and fourth from the door with the eyes of a Labrador |
| Paranoia keep me safe at night |
| My clip is full and my game is tight |
| She laid on ice before I laid the pipe |
| Kiss the ring 'fore I shake the dice |
| Daddy need a new Glock, extendo shots, and tube socks |
| She know how them looney rules rock |
| Your Mac-11 gu-wop |
| We was before them boondocks |
| Since Sour Lucas and Moonrocks |
| No loose knots on my new noose knots, ou |
| Mama there go that man again, Mini Van Dan and them |
| With a minivan full of mannequins, uh |
| For the drugs that we trafficking |
| Check the shipping and handle it |
| We finesse for them ex souls, get exposed |
| (Niggas better get to ducking when the pistol scream |
| I could bag a fifty bundle from the triple beam) |
| Gold; |
| bury it in the sand, count up a band |
| Light a blunt, reassure I’m the man |