| Carhartt dungarees; |
| it’s estimated that my mind elevated
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| Organized crime related
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| Bam Bam Bigelow, I’m not a gigolo
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| More like a general, chef like Emeril (look it up)
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| Panama Canal shipment, distributed to Dominican Republic
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| Republicans’ll love it
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| Democrat, Arafat, Madoff
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| And we don’t take a day off
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| We lay off and spray off
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| Meditate, Indian-style, knees bent
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| Throw grenades at the precinct, and I’m talking recent
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| Doing donuts on the highway in a Tahoe
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| Cash flow, I go
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| Jefe, muchacho
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| Hermano, Italiano, horizontal, Verrazano, old wino
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| Speak wisdom when we kicking it
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| I sit back and listen, it
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| Effect me magnificent, I’m different
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| See, I prefer that you call me by my alias
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| Nickname change at times, various
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| Girls curious, bi-coastal
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| Like a toaster, we toast you
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| Swift when we approach you
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| Niggas warned me, they informed me
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| Jakes swarm me, they straight storm me, they all on me
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| CNN tradition when them bodies go missing
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| Anybody get it -- Muslim, Jew, or Christian
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| Your honor, I was taught to move the onions
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| It’s just what I learned from OG’s as a young’un
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| It don’t mean that I’m a bad person
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| My Tec-9 got hiccups, it do mad burping
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| Shootouts, niggas is mad heartless
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| Them automatics and targets
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| Be the topic of discussion for the bloggers
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| And the robbers and the slingers
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| Muslim and Catholic, the non-religious
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| They recite every rhyme like holy scriptures
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| Consiglieres you might fear
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| White Airs looking like coke in heaven
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| You wanted it, we right here
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| We beat charges like Roethlisberger, paid attorneys
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| No witnesses, DA want to burn me
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| From the home of broken dreams and coke babies, it’s so crazy
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| They blow eighties, a body and a shell drop
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| Ricochet bullet hit shorty neck in the nail shop
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| The morgue is ice cold, but the corners is real hot
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| Non-stop observation, hustling’s my occupation
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| Give me a few ki’s, I’ll show you how to lock the nation
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| Queens House criminal, OG kush the minimal
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| Shorty grabbed my soldiers, salute the general
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| We send them shots back and forth like a rocking chair
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| Overthrow your block and lock it just like Rasta hair
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| Peer -- it’s mad cake on the plate now
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| The streets know we ill; |
| any minute could be a shakedown
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| Tap your pants pocket, take your wallet and your girl bangles
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| Little goons, I wing em like Bojangles
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| I walk with angels and a halo, my jewels glisten
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| CNN reporting the war, listen |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song My Alias, artist - N.O.R.E.. Album song DJ Green Lantern Presents - Crack on Steroids, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп