Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Tempa Tempa , by - Giggs. Song from the album Walk in da Park, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 03.08.2008
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: SN1
Song language: English
Tempa Tempa |
| «What's happening?» |
| «I don’t understand» |
| «I'm sure you don’t Jane» |
| Temper Temper |
| That was your crime |
| We’ve been watching you for some time |
| We knew that you’d appear |
| We knew your temper tantrums would lead you here |
| «Stop! |
| Leave us alone!» |
| «Pray silence for the judge» |
| «What judge?» |
| «All rise!» |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Got a bad temper and my gangs with it |
| If I click it it’s only cause my hand fidgets |
| I ain’t talking bopping by, where my gang visits |
| If I catch your pussy face, Imma Stan Smith it |
| Niggas walking round on foot, trying to bag pitches |
| Under-covers wanna look, I can’t stand snitches |
| Look see the bogers on my foot, looking Stan Smith-ish |
| And my swagger’s looking good, that’s why I bang bitches |
| In a hot spot, where the cops watch |
| I’ve got straps masked up like its not hot |
| Couple Glocks copped, I will not stop |
| Fam I got a lot of arms, call me Doc Ock |
| Keep a hop-scotch, till you pop spot |
| Bust a top lock, fuck a knock-knock |
| Got my strally out quick, move it chop chop |
| Niggas talking any shit, get your squad dropped |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Hear the tyres screech first, then the fire heats burst |
| I got two knifes, Imma put in Siamese work |
| Let it fly in his shirt, let him lie in his dirt |
| This the jungle, where the fucking lions eat first |
| You can’t test me prick, I’m a let tee rip |
| Blow your brains out, on some fucking pesky shit |
| Never let’s me slip, an interesting clip |
| Lethal weapon here, feel the fucking Jet Li kick |
| Never met me, but they wanna get me pitch |
| Feds arrest me, they don’t wanna let me live |
| My performance didn’t wanna let me spit |
| But when I swallow food they wanna let me shit |
| Niggas hyping like there on some pecks green shit |
| I’ve got lighting, blow you into next week quick |
| Now your blood’s floating, on some fucking Red Sea shit |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Temper temper |
| Caught you at last |
| Your quick temper went a bit fast |
| Real niggas with no patience, pesky, snaps, younger even you dun know |
| Let them little pussy 'oles know |
| This is a place of woe, this is a place where all wicked children… |