Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Lipton, artist - Mike LaddAlbum song Dopium, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 04.08.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Lipton |
| Yo, yo, magnificent high score, master plan, the crowd roar |
| Throw up daily dosage, get ready for the down pour |
| Human cannonball, matador, standing next to door |
| Battle y’all, sound more, get ready for the round four |
| Ground war, jigsaw, bear hug, bear claw |
| Slimeball, crime bosses, you better count your losses |
| Dark lord, divorce court, hot sauce, the pen glide |
| Then fly, Bangkok, Chinese, Shanghai |
| Red wine, fed time, bring crime, the cake rise |
| Take mines, break spines, watch for them snake eyes |
| Break ties, shake thighs, watch how them dollars flow |
| Scholar’s home, monotone, crush 'em on they collarbone |
| Cyclone, you styrofoam, up against the Wu brand |
| Big gun to hold it, it’s gonna take two hands |
| Check the newstand, I’m running with the Manual |
| Flammable, animals, call me a dynamo |
| Hannibal on elephants, got you in a stranglehold |
| Black man legal Gambino and my bangles gold |
| Hand in the finger bowl, your face is on my chrome gauge |
| Strapped with a bomb, gonna blow you to the Stone Age |
| Woo ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooooh |
| Ay, ay, the way she shake it |
| Ay, ay, I can’t take it |
| Ay, ay, the way she take it |
| Ay, ay, I can’t shake it |
| Yo, ever ready wordplay, conscious survey |
| Mountains fall crumble, impact your chestplate |
| Heavyweight, ankles swing, therapy Bowflex |
| Snowman, cold kid, melt you in your gore-tex |
| Raw sex vibe, ultraviolet on the sex drive |
| Forty five wives, new silent with my tech nines |
| Respect mine in chalk line, smash for your drama talk |
| Backflips, somersault, chopped by the tomahawk |
| Pop off, mazel tov, stung by the voodoo |
| Old school, new school, invest like the Jews do |
| Your broke ass, no class, broadcast on YouTube |
| Fake boobs, handjobs, state troops to damn slobs |
| Hate you, fuck off, hate you with duck sauce |
| Feathers get, plucked off, when I cough with ink dust |
| Linked up, inked up, strokes from the paintbrush |
| Go for your taste buds, shrooms and I stay buzzed |
| Music for your forehead, smashed on your horse face |
| Wu on the warhead, crash through your tourgates |
| Woo ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooooh |
| Ay, ay, the way she shake it |
| Ay, ay, I can’t take it |
| Ay, ay, the way she take it |
| Ay, ay, I can’t shake it |
| Scott knocks, is on the ball |
| Let’s rock, she love the boss |
| Oh god, she loves the mutt |
| Jump up, and go for my mine |
| It’s so deep, you get cross-eyed |
| Take that heat, and roll outside |
| Black handprints on the wall |
| Black handprints on the wall |
| Woo ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooh, ooh ooooh |
| Ay, ay, the way she shake it |
| Ay, ay, I can’t take it |
| Ay, ay, the way she take it |
| Ay, ay, I can’t shake it |
| I say I’m pimping, bitches on kneepads |
| Lipton, sipping the tea bag |