Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Raiders Cap , by - Demigodz. Song from the album Killmatic, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 04.03.2013
Record label: Demigodz Enterprises
Song language: English
Raiders Cap |
| Old-school, got my Raiders cap |
| Got my, got my Raiders cap |
| Old-school, got my Raiders cap |
| Got my, got my Raiders cap |
| I got that pistol grip pump sittin' pretty in the trunk |
| Blow your wig to the side like hair on Donald Trump |
| On some Gang Starr shit, execution of a chump |
| Evolution of a villain refillin' revolvers |
| I’m still in a state of mind like a stainless nine is on my lap |
| Starter jacket on my back, with a black Raiders cap |
| Rappers resurrect the crack like they brought Reagan back |
| You could run a 100 miles but you’re still afraid of Ap |
| Hit record on your radios to take my verse |
| The only way to get to space and escape this Earth |
| Stick to the facts, Ap got the wickedest raps |
| OG like a Raiders cap with snaps in the back |
| Old-school, got my Raiders cap |
| Got my, got my Raiders cap |
| Old-school, got my Raiders cap |
| Got my, got my Raiders cap |
| I got my Raider cap old like a Betamax |
| Tats all grey and black bringin' '88 back |
| Sacks full of crack, brick phone in my backpack |
| Parker with the Marcus Allen jersey that’ll match that |
| That’s that shit I used to rock back |
| When I used to breakdance when I used to pop |
| I was always into somethin' bumpin' N.W.A. |
| in the Cutlass |
| Me and the homies sippin' OE I was always a drunkard |
| You know how 'em L.A. dudes do, always got a deuce deuce |
| Don’t say nothin' stupid or somebody gonna shoot you |
| Open up the moon roof, yellin' Demigoon crew |
| Somebody call 911 tell 'em you got a boo boo |
| Old-school, got my Raiders cap |
| Got my, got my Raiders cap |
| Old-school, got my Raiders cap |
| Got my, got my Raiders cap |
| You know me, sippin' on a 40 of OE |
| On my stoop as a shorty shoutin' «Fuck Tha Police» |
| A nigga with a attitude but I ain’t Yella |
| Hoodie, I touch more money than bank tellers |
| As a young cat standin' on black with my Raiders cap |
| While y’all was whilin' with medallions tryin' to fade to black |
| It’s all good though, I ain’t tryin' to hate on that |
| But Mo’s hood so I stay where the danger’s at |
| Niggas slangin' crack, gangstas wavin' gats |
| Pimp slappin' their bitch, askin' «where my paper at?» |
| I was amazed by that, influenced the way I act |
| Never met my dad, the truth is I’m raised off rap |
| Old-school, got my Raiders cap |
| Got my, got my Raiders cap |
| Old-school, got my Raiders cap |
| Got my, got my Raiders cap |
| I am MC Ren with pale skin rockin' my Raiders brim |
| Got a toaster that I ain’t puttin' bagels in |
| I got a posse full of apostles |
| You a posse full of possums always hidin' while we hoo-ridin' |
| I judge who I shoot |
| So when my crew holds a grudge it’s a judge that I shoot |
| We disassemble Nazi members |
| Get totaled comin' at me top speed on a Kawasaki Ninja |
| Catch you out in LA at the Staples Center, Office Depot |
| You won’t see though staples dead center in your retina |
| Yeah, I slammed it there and they ain’t have cameras there |
| But if they did you’d see the second comin' of the man upstairs |
| Muthafucka |
| Old-school, got my Raiders cap |
| Got my, got my Raiders cap |
| Old-school, got my Raiders cap |
| Got my, got my Raiders cap |
| Nothin' you could say |