Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Getto Star, artist - Hussein Fatal. Date of issue: 23.03.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Getto Star |
| Waitll niggaz hear that tame and fatal got down and made it straight |
| From uptown with six sacks and this track thats in the background |
| Stop stressin from the chest up, we messed up Off that best stuff that fits up in yo dutch |
| Situation like this, you get blown to bits |
| Fuckin with this brick lyricist, more complex than the pyramids |
| Here it is, strictly biz like small print |
| In between them bong hits, we drop the strong shit |
| Chickenheads say, «who him? |
| «with fucked up timbs |
| Knotty fro and baggy denims, spendin up the benjamins |
| In city tenaments, the boom skwadron odd man |
| Dont give a fuck like rodman («what are you doing? «) |
| With no rings like patrick ewing («what? «) |
| Still I play hard regardless |
| Acquitted from the charges throwin darts up at the heartless |
| Aimin for your brain, tame one, one of the darkest |
| Brown like the chocolate, poppin your metropolis |
| Chorus: fatal hussein |
| Around my way, all they do is shoot dice all day |
| Escapin secret indictments, gettin nice all day |
| Dont let em fold ya, outlawz, the getto star soldiers |
| Give this letter to the president, before this shit is over |
| When hussein aim, puttin they brains on walls like tame name |
| Blastin these motherfuckers cause they just cant maintain |
| Yall plain janes gel in the? |
| wells? |
| county of sing-sing |
| Me and young noble, got em strung hold em for hostage |
| Lyrics verbally toxic, spit like doubled edged optics |
| My shit is milk, wearin silk shirts with chocolates |
| Yall broke and cant cop shit, I get, physically fit |
| On some evil eye ready to die shit |
| This thug shit, niggaz get beat down and shot up I saw this one nigga, get stolen on and your soul got up Stolen car, roll past the bar, toured a lot of city |
| Gave him an eighth and he cooked his whole product |
| Its a shame how you cowards change the game for narcotic |
| You dont get it, dont got it, the love of money get exotic |
| If you old you get shot at, and cant walk the streets |
| Without gettin your lil money hungry soft ass spot |
| We adapt to the system like? |
| eddie bap? |
| on mission |
| Get an ounce of izm, two six-packs, and kid listen |
| Just a dip on the task, my little niggaz on the ave |
| Do a bid and laugh, come home and cop a half |
| Hit me with twenty hundred, what you got was fronted |
| Now run it, I got this fuckin drug spot where I want it So dont be dissin new, when you aint got shit to do Five thousand dollars, charge free, right out municipal |
| Niggaz get played off to the left like they was southpaws |
| Toss you to the outlawz, then let them shoot it out |
| For what you clock for -- got more than you expected |
| When I inject correct shit, it gets hectic |
| Fuckin comin up with that next shit, thug niggaz and bugged niggaz |
| Luce? |
| steel is tight, Im straight up like midnight |
| We burn mics on turnpikes, we swervin through the lanes |
| We throw chains at bitches, its back to new jeru to get these riches |