Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song So Hard, artist - WC. Album song Ghetto Heisman, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 21.10.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: A Mercury Records release;
Song language: English
So Hard |
Ahh shit, god damn, niggas done fucked up |
W.C. |
and Face done hooked up |
From the West to the South, worldwide nigga |
Y’all know what I’m talkin' about |
We gon' do it like this for all my gutter niggas |
On the frontline gettin' theirs, check it out |
Di-di-di-dada dada-di-di we know |
It’s hard if you ain’t got pounds or kilos |
(Riders don’t die, we multiply, shift gears |
Toss fingers in the sky, fuck hoes and stay high) |
I started off small-time |
Snatchin' purses and robbin' niggas for all mine |
Used to love to catch you niggas known to high sign |
Bomb on they ass from the blind side |
My big daddy was a squabbler like Joe Frasier |
So understand I was born to ride by nature, blast for paper |
A teenager, hollow-point slugger |
In the Regal with the french braids and the cake cutter |
Gots to get mo' money, mo' money |
Can’t get pussy with no money, it’s funny |
When I was broke bitches laughed |
Til' I met this bitch by the name of rap |
Now with my Night Train it’s X. O |
So Mr. Officer, fuck you and my ex-hoes |
I know it’s hard to see a nigga make the bumper swang |
But I convert the jack game to the rap game, motherfucker |
Di-di-di-dada dada-di-di we know |
It’s hard if you ain’t got pounds or kilos |
(Riders don’t die, we multiply, shift gears |
Toss fingers in the sky, fuck hoes and stay high) |
The real niggas is back, cause there’s too many |
Bullshit records, out on the racks, fuckin' up the craft |
But I’m about to put the thug, G back in it |
The viscous Facemob with W.C. |
back in it |
You feel me daddy? |
The game need Bradley |
Cause nowadays your subject matter’s so shabby |
I rap about the shit I do, or the shit I’ve been through |
Cause I was taught you up your shoot |
I’ve got a body count beyond belief, cause there’s an arm in me |
Don’t take my word, ring the alarm and see |
I can act like I’m your homie 'til the timing is right |
Sneak up on ya when you’re sleepin', put this nine in your life |
(Now who the fuck thinkin' they want it with Mob? |
When I can map out a job to have a nigga come and level your squad) |
One deep, you play for stripes, I’m playin' for keeps |
Who gives a fuck about some braggin' rights, they talk in these streets |
Di-di-di-dada dada-di-di we know |
It’s hard if you ain’t got pounds or kilos |
(Riders don’t die, we multiply, shift gears |
Toss fingers in the sky, fuck hoes and stay high) |
I’ll break niggas, shake niggas, fake niggas |
Like weight apply pressure with my finger when sprayin' niggas |
W.C. |
and Face nigga, on the trigger deliverin' blood clots |
Buggin' these niggas with buckshots |
In the six drop with fetti to drop, ready to pop |
Hot rocks keepin' it hot from yo' block to my block |
Whether illegal or legal we gon' shine on these haters |
Keep it gutter, get the paper motherfucker |
Di-di-di-dada dada-di-di we know |
It’s hard if you ain’t got pounds or kilos |
(Riders don’t die, we multiply, shift gears |
Toss fingers in the sky, fuck hoes and stay high) |
(W.C.) |
I’m from the Southside, and I’m killin' with the flow |
And I’m here to let these niggas know |
(I'm from the Westside, and I’m dippin' in a fo' |
And I’m here to let you niggas know) |
I’m from the Southside, and I’m killin' with the flow |
And I’m here to let these niggas know |
(I'm from the Westside, and I’m dippin' in a fo' |
And I’m here to let you niggas know) |