Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Suspect , by - Orange 9mm. Song from the album Driver Not Included, in the genre МеталRelease date: 13.02.1995
Record label: Atlantic
Song language: English
Suspect |
| It was a murder |
| Jake just hit the corner people swarming |
| Three in the morning I jumped out my cab like Fuck, |
| niggaz is buck, mega bloodshed, the tapes red |
| I heard some bird whisper, Yo he should have ducked |
| I puffed the lilla, just before I hit the scene for rilla |
| I’m all high it’s late I’m looking down at the fella |
| Shit’s pushed in, ambulance placed him on some cushion |
| His mom’s had a stare I wouldn’t dare second look when I murk |
| It hurt, kind of took it as a brief reminder |
| that the street’s designed to stop your life, plot |
| The beast in time yeah, cell to cell suspect ass nigga you fell |
| First time locked in crime stop my mind blocks the frail |
| Bursting blasting at your forty cal shell, split your dry cell |
| My niggas never snitch why tell |
| We roll with no regrets, destiny’s, fifty’s and equities |
| Queens’ll be the death of me To the suspect witness don’t come outside |
| You might get your shit pushed back tonight |
| (Suspect witness don’t come outside |
| You might get your shit pushed back tonight) |
| Dear God, I want the riches, money hungry bitches infested |
| Giving the jealous niggas sickness, the witness |
| My crew dresses, in vest-es, feel the essence |
| Try to test this, scientist, able and reckless |
| Slaughter, Nautica’d down, frames look petite |
| Ten millis, mix designed just for my physique |
| I keep a low pro as if I owe, bless the flow lovely |
| My pants hang low while I’m dancing, sipping the bubbly |
| Hey, me no worry, hashish keep my eyes Chinese |
| Rollin two Phillies together make blunts Siamese |
| I meant it, I represent it, descendant made of early natives that were captured and taught to think backwards |
| Trapped us in a cracker psychiatric, it’s massive |
| A Million Man March, alert the masses |
| Ten glocks, Armani in small print, upon my glasses |
| Don assassins, armageddon, the wettin' |
| Never freakin the beast, seven heads, got the righteous threatened |
| Life Was Written, the plot curves behind the settin' |
| Comprehend the grammar, Manfrione -- are you the type of nigga |
| to shoot a leg to get your name known? |
| I flip the brain tome |
| Niggaz get hit and wrap the plastic |
| The mic I strike in vain givin the pain of what a Mack is What you with? |
| Luchi or drama, no sleep means insomnia |
| No need to check the clock, the streets are timin you |
| It justifies, Nas Escobar’s leavin shit mesmerized |
| Mega live, like the third world |
| Decipher my deceiver make him a believer |
| Spitting jim stars, words in my mic ttype receiver |
| Bond is my life so I live by my word |
| Never fraudulent Queensbridge don’t make no herbs |
| Spread my name to deacons, politicians while they speakin |
| Rebel to America civilization caught you sleepin |