| Down…
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| The paint is peelin'
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| Now…
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| When the chips are down
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| Down…
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| You gotta lose all feelin
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| Now…
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| When the chips are down
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| Yea.
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| I gets it poppin everybody know what remy bout (bout)
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| Got niggas shocked like justin just pulled janets titty out (out)
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| Yea I spit it out (out) quick to put a nigga out (out)
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| The bullets larged in doctors can’t get 'em out (out)
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| You gets no love to me y’all dead bugs
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| My records don’t sell then I’mma sell drugs
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| From o’s to whole p’s
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| Grams to whole keys
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| No joke I got coke that’ll make ya nose bleed
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| Dope so potant and my fiends done od’d
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| For Three-Fifty a pop I’ll sell you a dro seed
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| You really don’t know me and thats the fun part
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| See my flows retarded but miss martin is dumb smart
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| And you iliterate you can’t even read the tele-prompter
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| I got niggas flying me weed in by helicopter
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| You look sad when I pass in this toy benz
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| You gon' be real mad when I bag ya boyfriend
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| Down…
|
| The paint is peelin'
|
| Now…
|
| When the chips are down
|
| Down…
|
| You gotta lose all feelin'
|
| Now…
|
| When the chips are down
|
| Down…
|
| The paint is peelin'
|
| Now…
|
| When the chips are down
|
| Down…
|
| You gotta lose all feelin'
|
| Now…
|
| Your head goes round n round'
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| You can feel my pain like a drug You can light it with fire
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| And you can mix it with your blood if your tryna get higher
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| Another angel in a thugs body scarred and tired
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| Going to court got a luminati judgin' me biased
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| Shit I talk ain’t for everybody Walkin united
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| The way I walk its a challenge just to balance on wires
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| My old connect put me on Said he robbed the supplier
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| So I pieced him out with pity cause his ass was on fire
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| What goes around comes around holmes I ain’t lyin'
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| Thats why the scarrs on my face cause bad karma and violence
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| Just before a nigga wake I spend the night in silence
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| To give my nerves a little break before its back to the malace
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| I’d like to dedicate this rhyme to old emotional scars
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| Some nights I meditate hopin' Bring me closer to god
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| Tryna' regulate my time between the earth and the stars
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| Get my health back to determine whenI’mi curlin' them bars
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| Yo this the upcoming success Definition of prospect
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| Put ya money on me you get recognition and profits
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| On any condition I drops it
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| On a mission no listen to gossip
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| Whether splittin imposters
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| Sorta like a mobsters and my niggas I got ya
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| We all gon be eatin soon like italians with pasta
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| Smokin weed eatin curry chicken like the rastas
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| After that go to city Island and get the lobsters
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| Now can I get a witness lemme show y’all my visions
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| Never had a job but still take care all my business
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| No ged only diploma was my lyrics
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| I rhyme heavenly and let souls just off the appearance
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| And rap so I keep my dough stacks
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| Dont me go back and clap clap At yo do' matt like nigga hold that
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| Theres no feelings I’m feelin' cause when I’m feelin
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| I’m killin' the motherfucker right on his trip
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| Then killin' the villan what |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Hum Drum , by - Terror Squad. Song from the album True Story, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп