| Woooh, yeah, you can get with this, or you can get with that
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| I don’t got to tell you ho, you know I got that crack
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| Three for the price of one, you know I have you comin' back
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| You can have me a P.O. |
| absolute, and it’s a rap
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| It’s a fact, niggas know, fuck with us you gettin' clapped
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| No I won’t, say your name, cause it just put you on the map
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| And I ain’t, into lettin' niggas eat, no never that
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| Shorty love the way I swing my game, I got a better bat
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| Know I’m lethal with this rap shit, c’mon baby holla back
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| Cut that juggler, you bleedin', no there ain’t no stoppin' that
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| I don’t sleep, my eyes open, maybe a good powernap
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| Spit a verse, then I eventually watch the cheddar stack
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| I’m shittin' on niggas, shittin' like it’s a ???
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| This a standin' ovation for homey, with a Tek clap
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| F that, we takin' over baby, and that’s that
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| Catch me fuckin' with a bitch that can’t stand rap
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| I get at niggas like the stole from me, stole from me
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| Their bank account lookin' like no money, no money
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| There go police, shorty just hold for me, hold for me
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| You want to work? |
| Then pump this O for me, O for me
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| Gunpowder resi' on the sleeve of my Pelle
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| I had to burn my leather, and toss +My Buddy+
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| Two hundred calls comin' in on my celly
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| I had to cut the ringer, like «Fuck e’rybody»
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| Drive the bulletproof all the way to Cali
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| Lay low for a month or so — gettin' very
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| High — where I’m goin' it gets my mind of the bones
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| Back on the East Coast I bury
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| Now I’m partyin' with Halle Berry
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| This Hollywood shit’ll catch you slippin' if you let it
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| So niggas started grillin' me
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| Like they was gon' take my things, so I assumed I had to set it
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| Now it’s blood splashed all on the ice in my jewellery
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| They don’t know who did it, cause I did it smoothly
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| Take my ass back to Queens
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| It’s not like I look for trouble, it seems trouble always finds me, then
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| Look, I got tons of old beef, and a brand new forty
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| A hardcore groupie that would take a bullet for me
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| A high-priced lawyer, just in case a nigga snap
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| And can’t take a joke, and pop a nigga over rap
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| A horrible splatter in a matter of a second
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| Dead over a record, shit he sound like he meant it
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| My crew greater, yeah I’m talkin' to you hater
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| I’m too major, two-tone blue gator
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| New blazer, big gun, little razor
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| So raise up, that ain’t how your momma raised ya
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| They wire-tappin' to hear somethin', they ear-hustlin'
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| They won’t bust him, why they came in and handcuffed him
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| It’s nothin', there’s more 'mati's (automatics) at the spot
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| One flat tire’s gon' matter if they pop
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| I pop up tomorrow with the wagon off the lot
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| Stashbox, with the nine magnum with a wop |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Stole Something , by - Mobb Deep. Song from the album Blood Money, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп