Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Hold Up , by - Snowgoons. Song from the album Black Snow, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 23.06.2008
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Hold Up |
| Deutschland Deutschland raise your hand |
| I’m the poor 'casian, man tan more land |
| White man steal your land, Harry Callahan |
| Caliber cannon in my hand, shatter your man |
| Ran, splatter your man damn, this right hand land |
| I’m Chuck Zito, you Van Damme, do a full split |
| No bullshit once you get hit |
| Death by strangulation with Rosary Beads if you strict catholic |
| You’re Arabic, King of Nazareth |
| I’m John Huston, listen to the maverick |
| Hip hop historian and an analyst |
| Y’all could just have a list, I’m Paul Kersey in this |
| Death written hungry and thirsty, no mercy in this |
| Rugged Man I’m the man and the myth |
| In the Hall of Fame like Antonio Hardy and James Todd Smith |
| DJ Illegal, leave you in the position that’s fetal |
| Crawling back in your mom’s womb like «Bitch make room» |
| Hey yo hold up, click clack we make you fold up |
| Savage, Rugged leave you worn with a swollen mug |
| Now peep game, you hate, you get no love |
| So put your drink in the air and toast up |
| Reservoir Dog, switch cannons when I lick off |
| Toe tag, stiff in the morgue, even the score |
| Blow weed, chief out the bong ready for war |
| Weapons are drawn, leave the scent of death on your lawn |
| One false step and you’re gone, the shit that I’m on |
| Ring the alarm, pistol whip, pump in my palm |
| You trapped in a storm, traveled to depths and beyond |
| Back to the essence, Pharaoh live long |
| Squeezed till the barrel blew screaming fuck them all |
| Murder massacre disaster, piece to your dome |
| Hoodied up, black mask and I’m cruising your home |
| Born alone, die alone in these streets I roam |
| Vocabulary in it’s deadliest form |
| We’ll attack you walking the street, speak on the phone |
| I walk the block with a gloc, real to the bone |
| Till the sun burned out or my flesh is gone, motherfuckers |
| Ain’t no one out here abut to stop my shine |
| I got more eyes in the hood than the crime watch eyes |
| Keep me aware of the snakes and their sideways grind |
| Run their mouth, they go south before it’s migrate time |
| No matter your religion you can’t run up on the God |
| Brain hit your skull while you stumble with your squad |
| Treat my music like life, you can’t front if it’s hard |
| When I heard life’s a bitch I was done with the broad |
| And I’m down to pimp a dick bitch, 100 abroad |
| You’re my bottom bitch, swallow dick, cum for a yard |
| I stay on the block like twenty-one dots, homes |
| Ahk think he hot but he’s rocking a costume |
| He say he’s from the hood but his pops got a pontoon |
| My life on the beat, put my soul in the song too |
| The sickest on the mic since AIDS outreach night Qualm |
| Seen more deaths in the night than a light from pipebomb |