Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Watch Your Step, artist - Percee P. Album song Perseverance, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 17.09.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Stones Throw
Song language: English
Watch Your Step |
Vinnie Paz |
My guns are bigger than a baby’s arm |
With Agent Orange like I was raised in ‘Nam |
The bullets stay inside your brain like it’s your favorite song |
I don’t give a fuck who they hitting, they can graze your mom |
I load the motherfucking clip in, they like baby bombs |
I see it as something beautiful when the metal fly |
Around the way call me Lucifer, a hell of a guy |
I’m a motherfucking veteran I’m telling you why |
Beat his head until there’s red in them I’m letting 'em die |
City of brotherly thugs, the home of filthy living |
You ain’t fucking around with Vinnie, Percee, and Guilty Simpson |
Unless you wanna be the target that we dump the clip in |
I do the shit during the day, I like the gun to glisten |
You a backwards motherfucker you run prison |
You think that being locked with males in jail’s a fun position |
You should kill yourself rapper and be stuck in the earth |
To be honest ain’t no rapper that can fuck with you first |
For the cats in the hood with a rep |
Hustle through the AM when most men slept |
In the waistline where the roscoe’s kept |
I’m on the edge nigga watch yo' step |
I’m on the edge nigga watch your step |
We here to eat till there’s no food left |
In the waistline where the roscoe’s kept |
I’m on the edge nigga watch yo' step |
Percee P |
Fast or slow pace my flow lace tracks this cat’ll throw bass |
And don’t waste steps and go chase broads to no place |
Master streets, impress the freaks, pimps dressed for weeks |
Hoes left to me I guess to cheat and test the sheets |
Ripping shows from here to Britain yo I’m hitting hoes |
Skipping those women that sniffin' blow and not getting dough |
First degree murder rhymes disturbing mind like urban lies |
And quote words only science to Percee P |
Amateurs know they can’t stand with the pro |
My Los Angeles flow cause damages most scandalous foes better handle it yo |
I’m getting that food that are steady ripping blacks |
Spitting raps, hitting cats for kicking wack lyrics to bitten tracks |
My interviews say I said a few lines to diminish crews |
Some men’ll do shit like bending rules |
Go for the kill I’ll still finish you |
I’m so hot we gotta close shop, you know not to open your spot |
While I patrol blocks you getting no props |
For the cats in the hood with a rep |
Hustle through the AM when most men slept |
In the waistline where the roscoe’s kept |
I’m on the edge nigga watch yo' step |
I’m on the edge nigga watch your step |
We here to eat till there’s no food left |
In the waistline where the roscoe’s kept |
I’m on the edge nigga watch yo' step |
Guilty Simpson |
Guilty Simpson damage is beyond word descriptions |
Rough verse inscriptions wrote by cutthroats |
Smoke in the alley where the young cats bust toast |
Pinching pennies to pay up his truck note |
My various techniques compare with Jet Li |
I’ll chop with an AK and kick when it’s pay day |
Let’s see how many men must test me |
Deadly with a pen, let the rest beware |
Face down in the playground six feet deep |
In the sandbox when my right hand cocks back on the hammer |
You rest in peace |
I pray on wack cats when I bless the beats |
Like priests in the Vatican heat rat-a-tattling |
And sprayed up the vehicle your homeboy traveled in |
Fuck the spots they brag about |
We kick your front door way in and drag em out |