| [Intro: Sample +
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| Westside Gunn
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| «There you go, there you go
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| What I’m getting from this is really that feeling you were describing before
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| about how it’s a very physical act
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| A big part of it is me being in the studio all of the time and you know,
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| a huge passion of mine is to be able to
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| Take it to the streets, getting that sort of feedback as I work
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| It’s kind of, like, you get the people to, like, kind of bear witness to your
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| passion manifest and, like, feel it with you or see
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| Absolutely, and they become part of the process»
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| Brrt! |
| Boom! |
| Boom! |
| Boom! |
| Boom! |
| Boom! |
| (Ayo)
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| Brrt! |
| Brrt! |
| Boom! |
| Boom! |
| Boom! |
| Boom! |
| Boom! |
| Boom! |
| Boom!
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| Ayo—MAC in the Supreme with the mic jack (brrt)
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| These niggas actin' like they ill, they ain’t like that
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| Gatorade 6's, yay flippers, we in the cell reminiscing
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| All you heard was, «CO, I’m hit», they caught him slippin
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| Lord forgive him, robbed the dice game, bought a 100 suits
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| Had the joint on 'em, ten flights, threw 'em off the roof
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| He landed on Mercer by Versace
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| Last time they see me I’ll be shootin' out the Masi
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| Gucci tearaway suits, Jesus, make two bricks out of one
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| Wipe your fucking prints off and we bool
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| Gold horse from '76, I think this Nicky Barnes shit
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| Unwrap the third crystal, you know the god fish
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| Balenciaga bucket shot the whole whip up, he launched it
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| I make the sky gray, rain yay, Canali jumpers (boom boom boom boom boom boom
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| boom)
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| Ayo, I make the sky gray, rain yay, Canali jumpers
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| Hi points for throwaways
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| I know they jam, but I’ma hit you five times in the gut
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| He need another rib
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| Fieg purple Maestros on the tight rope
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| Bags was 35, I had them for 32, they gave them hope
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| Davey Boy Smith with no kick, with the rubber handle
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| A new yacht every week, John Sanden sandals (lalalalalala)
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| Ayo, a new yacht every week, John Sanden sandals
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| If Griselda and Adolf had a baby, he would be a little Shady
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| He would make me his lady
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| Red roses and blood diamonds for his lady
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| He would let me read poetry to his enemies
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| Before he chopped their heads off
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| Pyramid schemes iller than Madoff
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| Sticky weed and bulletproof vests
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| Talk slick, dump a clip in your chest
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| Poisoning puppies for practice, murderous tendencies
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| Giving bitches a buck fifty for fun
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| Packing grenades, he’s sipping Perignon
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| But it’s Ace of Spades in my flute
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| No words exchanged, just give him the signal, my nigga shoot
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| Japanese denim and Fendi ankle boots
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| Coconut color Carreras
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| A hundred for the lipstick, fifty for the mascara
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| Four-hundred on something see-through from the La Perla
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| Skin and hair scented in Clive Christian, number one
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| Baron spectacular, he knew fucking her would be dangerous fun
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| [Outro:? |
| &
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| Tell her, tell her
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| Can I get my 75 cents?
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| Tell her, tell her again
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| Damn, he gon' give it to you
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| No, I need 75 cents out of you
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| I got you
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| Ooh, lemme see that, bro
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| I want it outta her
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| What you need to do, is you need to tell her-
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| Guess what, guess what. |
| I got the and I want
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| Say it, say it again
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| Give it, give me my 75 cents and I’ll show you how I go brrow, he haw, he haw,
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| he
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| Well, how much, how much?
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| 75 cents
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| this bitch
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| You gon' do all that under what? |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Hebru , by - Westside Gunn. Song from the album Hitler's Dead, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп