| Ever since I was young I wanted to be Somethin like what I am, uhuhhhhhh…
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| We promote violins!
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| Yeah — check me out
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| We promote violins!
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| E-Swiftulaus, Kurupt Young Gotti Neo Deastro (?)
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| Franklin Gostra the Sixth, Sixth.
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| (Let's go, Kurupt.)
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| May I laugh (?) to yourself, shells
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| Before honor and war I just can’t tell
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| I can’t fake these soliloquies, silencers off
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| The art of warfare in here violence is off (ha)
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| Po-po's gone, periscopes on Telescopes on, and tell her that hope gone
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| And show her that war is war, fours and forty-fours
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| Banana peeling clips stacked ceiling to floor boards
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| Head up the concourse, like (?) in concourse
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| Scissorhands bulldoze ran like Honda Accords
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| I’m perfect with every note, 'til the periscope’s on Play like the accordian perfect with every chord
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| We combine, mental body and soul’s Columbine
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| Hope floats like public streams, ravines
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| Harm forces that bear armed forces
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| Puttin body parts all over walls and public signs
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| Anxious as Ginuwine
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| Congressional street scholar, professional street soldier
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| Intellectual Manitoba, California to Cuba
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| Gooding like Cuba Gooding gettin blown like a tuba
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| Dead in the head shells shed red October
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| Shed and spread, cock and pop the glock only
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| I’m with King Tee and Tha Liks, Alkahol it up like
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| bitch — get the fuck off my dick
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| I got pistols, pills, acid, bombs
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| Crank, crystalized coke in lines
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| I don’t give a fuck (we don’t give a fuck about nuttin)
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| I don’t give a fuck (we don’t give a fuck about nuttin)
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| I don’t give a fuck (we don’t give a fuck about nuttin)
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| You the only one walkin around with a hot stolen gun
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| Thinkin you Napolean and dream of holdin some
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| while I’m rollin one it’s like a medieval upheaval, the regal
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| get chopped up and found on both coasts, gettin ate up by the seagulls
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| Now you out for the season, J-Ro is the reason you freezin
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| In the cold sneezin
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| While I’m takin pictures cheesin at the Likwid meetin eatin
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| And we all got heat that be repeatin for you knee-gaz
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| We trippin sippin on Hen and ready to quench yo’thirst
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| Every time I kick a verse you wish you’d thought of it first
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| I need a NURSE (why J?) before my head burst
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| from divin headfirst into your local networks
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| Some people think hip-hop is so obnoxious
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| Some people get a kick out of it like shoe boxes
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| I hope that, MC’sll get a lot of G’s per rap
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| Cause while the microphones are on, the place I’ll spit my words at If I was in the ring with four men, they’d have to get more men
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| with mops and towels for all the liquid pourin
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| King Tee and Tha Liks, and Kurupt fuck it up like
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| BITCH, get the fuck off my dick
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| I got hookers, hoes, tramps, pigeons
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| Bitches, rats, sluts with big butts
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| I don’t give a fuck (I don’t give a fuck)
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| I don’t give a fuck (I don’t give a MOTHERfuck)
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| (There it is. there it goes.)
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| So while the clock be tock tickin Tha Liks be hop hippin
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| Straight drop-kickin victims 'til they egos stop trippin
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| Bitchin while my set is on set to set it off
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| While they set to set-trippin but still can’t get it off
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| This section sectioned off for the fly hoes and Alkies
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| Y’all niggaz know the rules you can’t pop bottles without me It’s Likwid, and all my niggaz is Don Kings
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| Gettin drunk, writin rhymes by the pool in Palm Springs
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| Cause ain’t nuttin changed but the size of the bottles
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| We still rock the shows with a Rollo-ass wobble
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| So look but don’t touch cause everybody know the facts is Tash a maniac, Tash had tracks with actors
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| Still with Tha Liks, alcoholed it up like
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| BITCH, get the fuck off my dick
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| I got juice, gin, Mo'(Cris) Hen
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| Walkin in the mall with thirty thousand to spend
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| So fuck y’all (we, don’t, give, a)
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| I don’t give a fuck (fuck, don’t, give, a)
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| I don’t give a fuck (fuck, don’t, give, a)
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| I don’t give a fuck (fuck, don’t, give, a)
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| I don’t give a fuck (fuck, don’t, give, a)
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| I don’t give a fuck (fuck, don’t, give, a)
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| I don’t give a fuck (fuck, don’t, give, a)
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| I don’t give a fuck (fuck, don’t, give, a)
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| I don’t give a fuck |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Promote Violins, artist - Tash. Album song Publicity Stunt, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп