Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song M.A.F.I.A. Land, artist - Lil' Kim. Album song Hard Core, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.07.2009
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Atlantic, Rhino Entertainment Company
Song language: English
M.A.F.I.A. Land |
Yeah, uhh |
In the M.A.F.I.A.'s land, y’all |
Where loyalty is everything |
The M.A.F.I.A. |
forgives, but never forgets |
Heh, let me tell you |
In the M.A.F.I.A.'s land where there’s one boss and one clan |
Yes mans, they surround us like steaks in pans |
All 'em wanna be the man, right hands wash the left hands |
Loyalty’s priority in this fam |
Where life’s initiated, ain’t no givin' it back |
Once you in it, like Bennett, you’ll soon be lieutenant |
Like me, the Don Juan, that’s Yvonne |
The sweat-a the money getter |
Coppin' mad cheddar |
Stevie was Wondering how I got in this position |
One day Frank was fishin' for competition, expedition |
Number one, his name is Barry Madanno |
Push the phat Milano, '96 stick-shift 'cross the Verrazano |
I lay gently in the Bentley, through binoculars he seemed popular |
Givenchy socks, Cartier coolats |
H-class rocks and charms like Bohemians |
Sick like leukemians, receding hairlines |
Watch how genuine this gold mine recline |
When Frank pops the wine, I cocks the nine |
Niggas peeped it from behind and slipped they clips in quick |
One chick named Nick thought she was the shit |
Tried to play Big Poppa, don’t worry |
Minutes before I drop her, the *blow! |
blow! |
blow!* |
Like a parolee, the bitch violated |
So how you like it: coffins or cremated? |
It ain’t a day of my life that rolls by |
That I don’t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
Now, it’s just me and my niggas |
It ain’t a day of my life that rolls by |
That I don’t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
Now, it’s just me and my niggas |
Street murderers, thug parasites |
We official, no fake gators |
Coppin' firearms with dud missles |
We leavin' scar tissues |
That nigga Barry still aggy about that slut |
Mob nigga, what! |
threw the gang sign up |
The nigga chuckles, just slip the loot |
On my belt buckles and cracked his middle knuckles |
Damn! |
How could a deal for a couple mill |
Result to such violence |
And throw our whole shit off balance? |
But still, they pat me down from all angles |
Trapped inside the Devil’s triangle |
Like Bo I had the Jangles |
And movin' slow to slide up on these Mexicans |
One cross-eyed and hunchbacked |
The other must be mixed with Black |
The third nigga had missin' teeth and tattoo teardrops |
Long hair, chest felt like a bag of rocks |
Before this chops |
I grabbed the keys to locks, the jewels and the rocks |
The cream in the box, et cetera, et cetera, and it don’t stop |
I got away with everything, the cash and the stash |
It ain’t a day of my life that rolls by |
That I don’t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
Now, it’s just me and my niggas |
It ain’t a day of my life that rolls by |
That I don’t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
Now, it’s just me and my niggas |
So now I’m titled, mission accomplished |
My man was astonished |
He looked as if there was a foul aroma in the air |
Stinkin! |
I know this nigga’s thinkin' |
«Damn! |
She too little, too pretty, too quiet |
The bitch is hired,» mob’s wife for life |
Diamond heist with Trife, contracts on your life |
We increase the price, uhh |
So guess who the bitch is? |
But for now I be the mistress |
It ain’t a day of my life that rolls by |
That I don’t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
Now, it’s just me and my niggas |
It ain’t a day of my life that rolls by |
That I don’t get high, sit back, and wan' cry |
I used to roll hard with tons of bitches |
Now, it’s just me and my niggas |