Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Whatever , by - Masta Killa. Release date: 31.05.2004
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Whatever |
| I see him… Killa… blast on 'em, never |
| Yo. |
| I got the drop on you, don’t flinch |
| Pop niggaz like John Lynch |
| Leave niggaz in they own stench |
| I’mma light drinker, heavy smoker |
| Known for duckin’show promoters |
| Pass the money, over, my whole crew is ex-cons |
| Be alarmed, when you hear the *err-urrrrr* |
| It’s on, Silverback niggaz under the stairs |
| When we link up, we travel in pairs |
| Ya’ll niggaz best to beware of the most thoroughest |
| Cover all aspects, four corners |
| You can’t creep up on us |
| I’m takin’one for the team, deal me in And when the smoke clears, do it again |
| This ain’t a side show, you can die slow |
| There’s no I in team, we all ride… yo! |
| The Masta brought the ceremony, this is my testament |
| Homicide Housing, that’s what I represent |
| Criminal gun play, chemical dream to P.J.'s |
| Last raid, another fed paid, bed rum: Sunday |
| The world dyin’for the love of money |
| Expensive chains, intensive pain from that cocaine |
| Condition the brain, children in strain, as I look back |
| Memory lane, civil and plain, it be in fame |
| A major part of the game, chemistry grain |
| Foolish kids ran when I came |
| Forty acres, five percent of terrain |
| Spark right through my vein tunnel, aim through this jungle of rain |
| A lot of haters wanna see us hang |
| But watch me bang as in Eagle/Crane |
| Step back, shatter your frame |
| Another victim in the system where he barely sustained |
| Forkin’in, I sold a million way, his first campaign |
| Sippin’rosemary cherry champagne, nigga |
| The young and the dangerous, water on the wrist, ice cryst' |
| Talk with a lisp, then I be top of your list |
| We all in this together, forever and ever |
| Down for whatever, whenever, yeah, yeah |
| We all in this together, forever and ever |
| Down for whatever, whenever |
| Check the Words from the Genius, that was written in pen |
| Murder gloves, hide the fingerprint, but never the sin |
| Ghetto prophet that’s born to «e Got the crimies, behind me, with the face on stroke |
| Don’t provoke, trust son, that thing bust, and we roll dangerous |
| Who can handle us, when we rush the clubs on thrust |
| Yo, don’t miss the lead vocalist, terrorist |
| Wu-Tang, a pure danger, the God hold a fort |
| Teach law, universal, beatdown, my stomping ground |
| We hold courts in the streets of New York |
| Snort the gun powder, eyes stay red like fire |
| Cut the mic wire, hit a love ballad note |
| Pen stroke, beautiful «e, for you to deep throat |
| Ghetto life had to rough up in the housing |
| They only make 'em us, every twenty five thousand |