
Date of issue: 19.10.1998
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
A Thugs Love Story (Chapter I, II, III) |
I know this chick, yo mami is rich, she push a six |
Livin' some bloodshed, her man pushin' bricks |
Crib way out in the sticks, they house lookin' slick |
It’s like some shit, straight out of a Hollywood flick |
Me and my clique, met the chick up at Saint Nicks |
Honey was thick, I was the first nigga to kick |
Yo mami was thick, silk skirt with thigh split |
I couldn’t quit, tryna peep out the privates |
The live shit, you know how loose I get |
I’m schemin' on her back, peeping her hips, fiendin' to hit |
Plump cherry lips, medium tits, Chink eyes her baby hair chick |
The type you want to pair with, have an affair with |
We chattered a bit, slipped me the digits, to the hip and the phone flip |
Said she had to split, hopped in the whip, headed up the strip |
Probably had to get with her man and shit |
Later on at night, I’m stressin' love at first sight |
Some ain’t right, I ain’t the type of cat likely |
To be dealin' with mad feelings |
And even though mami was mad appealin' |
Body revealin' and big wheelin' |
This shit is illin, I don’t like it |
Fuck it, I can’t fight it |
I’m reachin' for the cordless to call Miss |
I insist, to get with this |
Tan Tone answer the phone, «Hello, who’s this?» |
(chick) |
«It's me baby, G Luciano, what up lady?» |
«Fine and how you doin' boo?» |
(chick) |
«Ain't nothing new but you, angel, yo why don’t you swing through? |
«We could sip on some champagne from Spain boo» |
About an hour or two she came thru, fly hairdo |
We link, push in the six circle circle drink |
To purple mink, had mad bank, Chanel bag full of Benjamin Franks |
More ices than a hockey rink, face of a Saint |
Went for a drink, open windows, a spot for our shots |
Would wanna spend those, five digit o’s, on busty bimbos |
Bar closed, back to her six double o, she drove |
My eyes closed, her nigga dozed, when I awoke |
Saw mad snow, we at her spot at the Poconos |
Bridge robes, crib hot as a stove |
She changed out of her clothes, put on a silky bath robe |
Panty hoes with see-through holes, pretty toes |
Took me into the master suite, shit was sweet |
Jacuzzi four feet deep, with satin sheets |
As I was speakin' to this half black/latin freak |
Met on a Manhattan street, body petite, fat in the cheeks |
I was gettin' open, started, laughin' and jokin' |
We weed smokin', strokin', the shorty spoke and |
Said what the deal is, the realness |
My man is crazy as Bruce Willis |
If he catches, he’ll try to kill us |
He got a whole army of killers |
Me no worry, I gots the clapper son |
End of the first verse, chapter I |
Word |
Shit is real in the field |
Thug love story |
So here I am |
Laid up in this lavish house, up in the Poconos |
With this chick I don’t even really know |
Steady stressin' me how ill her man is |
So what I go and do, heh-heh, I nail her ass to the bed anyway |
Straight twistin' mami’s back out |
Hit three o’clock, fell right the fuck to sleep |
Clothes still on, breath smellin' like Henrock |
Totally no kind of regards for this bitch’s man |
I guess it’s just another one of those G Rap adventures |
The next day about a quarter to eight |
I heard a squeak on the staircase |
Got the gat from under the pillow case |
Somebody broke in, now me and boo fully awoken |
Good thing I slept inside my clothes and, shorty was frozen |
I’m waitin' for a head to poke in, and start smokin' |
The home invasion, right through the door, they started blazin' |
Bullets was grazin', shit was crazy kid |
I had to think fast, let the gun blast, duck, then dash |
Heard a crash, they broke through the door, they on her ass |
Jumped off the balcony like a falcon Gee |
With honey right in back of me, feel on top of the snow in agony |
Shit was thick, couldn’t get to the six, they loaded the fifth |
Saw the snowmobile yo fuck it |
We start jumped it, get on top of the shit and peeled |
Mad soldiers out in the field, bustin' they steel |
The raw deal, kill or be killed, shit is real |
Ten hit me right on my heels, tryna make a thug’s blood spill |
In zero degrees, niggas on skis, me and these Gees |
Slipping through pine trees, we skid up behind these |
Two big rocks and left off shots, about four dropped |
The other six started to pop, felt somethin' hot |
I think I got hit, my jacket is ripped |
Loaded my last clip then broke out quick and checked the chick |
She on my back tighter than shit, like vise grips |
I started clappin', niggas rolled up in blue and black and |
Spotted this Rover by a log cabin, we got our ass in |
Mash the gas, make the fuckin' wheel spin |
The safety again, and still doin' a hundred and ten |
Shorty shiverin', lip quiverin', ski suits up in the back seat |
Pulled over the Jeep, get it in |
And took a rest stop at the river bend |
We livin', made it the fuck out, mad slugs deliverin' |
Pretty soon we at my rest piece, up in the bedroom |
Got shorty boo, tendin' my bullet wound |
Put on some tunes, she blew my shit like a balloon |
Up in the moonlit room, and dickin' her womb |
Hittin' full behind her, grindin' her with my anaconda |
She rode the dick like a honda |
I took her to the point of no return like Bridget Fonda |
She back spasmed, givin' the crazy orgasm, from steady rhythm |
My dick glistened, her lips hit 'em, I shot jism |
Then laid back in the sack and lit the ism |
I thought about the realism |
Niggas comin' and bring they steel with them |
I got just the thing to deal with them |
Nickel plate Mac, the laser attached, with two clips packed |
Push a nigga whole head back, so I snatched that |
So quick spray out, and play the layout |
Still on alert, me and the skirt, day in and day out |
Yo what’s the matter mami, you scared or something? |
I’m a little worried baby |
Yo, don’t be worried about nuthin', alright? |
Everythin' gonna be alright |
OK |
Look, we just gonna go to your house, go get the money |
You know, we gonna get your backs or whatever |
And we gonna get out of there, alright? |
Alright, ven paca papi, dame un besito |
Alright, alright grab that bag money |
Let’s do this, baby |
After three whole days of lampin', we broke camp and |
Went out to the beach, many mansions out in the Hamptons |
Brung the clamp, ready to shoot shit up at random |
Five hundred grand is buried in the sand |
We plannin', up in the crib-o with big windows, I’m countin' the dough |
She packin' her clothes, had her Lexus in the back of the Rolls |
I saw the keys, I grabbed the G’s, we on and took those |
Shit was sittin' on some chrome momo’s |
Tinted windows, a LS Ford double O |
Told the chick; |
«Yo you movin' too slow |
Speed it up baby, we got to go |
And get this plane and, hit the Caymans |
With the payment», somebody came in |
A platoon of goons with heaters aimin' |
I drew the Mac 10 and started flamin', they did the same and |
Slugs sprayin' and blood rainin', I left about seven thugs layin' |
But this one cat was gainin', he grabbed the dame and |
Put the heater to the chick’s brain and |
I let my two guns drop, they got the drop |
They took us both to a boat dock, then on a yacht |
The chick’s man was there with a sixteen shot |
Nigga was hot, took the Glock and hit me dead in my knot |
Honey started to panic and yellin' that money in spanish |
Thinkin' he’s out to take advantage |
So we’re out in the fuckin' Atlantic |
With no lifesavers and stranded |
Backhanded the chick on the floor, called her a whore |
Said, «Amor, you won’t be pretty no more» |
Took us on a tour, down in the deck |
Guess he wasn’t ready to kill us yet |
Saw this nigga there, holdin' the Tec |
Ready to wet, I started to sweat, a niggas stressed |
We up beside a horrible mess |
I saw a box with the letters on it, S.O.S |
So I took out a flare gun and shot the kid in the chest |
Took the Tec from out his hand, now I’m ready to bless |
The madness, put the rest of them niggas to rest |
Looked around, the chick’s man was the only one left |
Threw his ass over board and told him «Hold your breath» |
Caught my breath, I seen honey down on the deck |
Eyes closed with a bullet hole dead in her breast |
Held her in my arms till her soul finally left |
I’m mad depressed, my baby was an innocent death |
A real thug, lost the only women he loved |
And I bugged, bustin' slugs at the skies above |
Word |
Name | Year |
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Animal Rap ft. Kool G Rap | 2006 |
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Whar ft. Ghostface Killah, Kool G Rap, Tash Mahogany | 2009 |
Assassination Day ft. MF DOOM, Kool G Rap | 2018 |
As You Already Know ft. Truck Turner, Big Pun, Kool G Rap | 2006 |
QBG ft. Big Kap, Prodigy, Kool G Rap | 1998 |
Blowin Up in the World | 2012 |
Money on My Brain ft. Kool G Rap, MF DOOM, MF Grimm | 2003 |
The System ft. Kool G Rap, The Godfathers | 2012 |
Hip-Hop Icons ft. Kool G Rap, Ice T | 2017 |
Fast Life ft. Nas | 1995 |
Take 'Em to War ft. Kool G Rap, MF DOOM, MF Grimm | 2003 |
As You Already Know (W/Truck Turner, Big Pun & Kool G Rap) ft. Kool G Rap, Big Pun, Truck Turner | 2008 |
First Nigga | 2012 |
Wolves Amongst the Sheep ft. Kool G Rap, Block McCloud | 2012 |