Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Heads Or Tails, artist - Snowgoons. Album song German Lugers, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.02.2007
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Heads Or Tails |
You know what I’m sayin', Kamachi |
Big Virt, Jus Allah |
Yeah, yeah, yeah, what’s the fucking deal? |
The Snowgoons (Snowgoons) |
Yeah, you know what I’m sayin', Kamachi |
Big Virt (Yeah, yeah) |
Jus Allah (Yeah, nigga) |
Yo, at the door of the lord my death gospel sings |
It’s what I serve the kings, I’m an angel with dirty wings |
From Hell’s church, funeral bells work |
Chief, Jus and Virt, we crush the earth |
We love to kill like you love the dirt |
Code red alert, the guns go berserk |
Bring the sensimilla and meet me after work |
I’ll write another verse and send another curse |
Philly to Boston, Jersey to Germany |
Walk the Autobahn with a bomb screaming, «Emergency» |
High like the heavens cause that’s where I prefer to be |
DJ Illegal, cut, start the surgery |
It’s murder in the thirty-third degree |
Juju Mob, Kamach you heard you of me |
(And we the rawest muhfuckin' click in the felt) |
(The real motherfuckers better recognize real) |
(The real motherfuckers better recognize real, real, real, real, real) |
Bring your whole squad we starve 'em, fuck it, who wants some? |
Pawn 'em like the spectre of death we reppin' Boston |
Smash y’all motherfuckers, you can’t touch us |
The flow fill your ears 'till your skull and brain rupture |
Pain slashin' cut you, get the cat of nine tails |
Fills the rhyme grill, stab your heart with nine nails |
You faggots spittin' fabrications, figments of imagination |
You won’t get the picture until I flip and smash your face in |
Throw you down a flight of stairs, stab you with a Viking spear |
Your whole cipher’s scared cause they know the Titan’s here |
The church clothes blood-stainin' 'em when I’m aiming them |
Spittin' metal that’ll penetrate your cranium |
Tried saving them, but fuck that, now I’m maimin' 'em |
Mutilation shootin' for God and making moves for Satan |
Next I’m breaking makin' his body abandon his spirit |
Started swingin' on you motherfuckers like Manny Ramirez |
(The real motherfuckers better recognize real, real, real) |
Return your motherfucking soul before my next blunt gets rolled |
I eat you motherfuckers whole before the blood gets cold |
Truth be told, you talk like a two years old |
Same shit you wanna hold like the purest of gold |
When my rhyme begins everything that’s on your mind ends |
Each line from divine’s like vitamins |
Every message from Allah is like medicine |
Every one of them could purify the Devil’s sins |
Fuckin' fool, you probably flunked pre-school |
We ain’t equals, I ain’t readable |
You’re one step above your own mother feeding you |
Unbelievable, dumb enough to be illegal |
You couldn’t get this high without a fucking needle |
And a fuckin' supply to fry three people |
(Like M.O.P., nigga, I’ll mash you out) |
(And we the rawest muhfuckin' click in the felt) |
(The real motherfuckers better recognize real) |
(You're fuckin' with the wrong clan and the wrong man) |
(Real motherfuckers better recognize real, real, real, real) |
(Real motherfuckers better recognize real, real, real, real, real) |