Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Lutunza, artist - Wu-Syndicate. Date of issue: 19.04.1999
Song language: English
Lutunza |
| Let’s get this money for real. |
| It’s time to get paid baby. |
| Lutunza. |
| All that shit. |
| For real. |
| It’s planned gains. |
| Just don’t want no money. |
| For real. |
| Shit is real in the feel out here. |
| Yeah. |
| When iron spit, cats fold, infact get their life froze |
| Model hit, stallion, medallion, Fedel Castro |
| Cigars lit, coke sniffs got face slashed and? |
| raw-dick? |
| Heist 20th century glock, murder with own clip |
| Eighty-t along things, storm rip |
| Spots, where the bricks, eight-box, jewellery? |
| Empire fall quick, project legacy involved with |
| Incarcerated thugs came home, so we linked, form a swarm click |
| Operate extortion on some calm shit, faggot catch snitched |
| Yo, tell him what happened, haven’t been found since |
| Two rounds from? |
| autopsy?, bound? |
| drip? |
| Barely decomposed corpse, laced ?, out of town ditch |
| Cheddar got me hungry, open eye’s lids |
| Two lies, cry, innocent die, attention is undivided |
| Lives got you cryin when homicide hit |
| Look them niggaz shinin, news report, no one can find him |
| Ain’t no surprise, where the funds at? |
| Lutunza hit |
| Panic or flich, get clapped, can’t stand in your pants |
| Thought he used his head, but he snitched |
| Fat look, snatch up, duck tape him and his man and his bitch |
| Eight hundred thousand dollars, damn it, we’re rich |
| Found dead, stallion horse head in your whip |
| Tote, heist 20th century glock, guns and clips |
| Run your shit, funds and bricks, lutunza hit |
| So, what’s the chemistry, who ran in your spot, plannin your plot? |
| Half a brick sting, Hermy Heavy, hand me the glock |
| Hundred grand inside a shoebox, his man did drop |
| Some weed, who popped? |
| You know scared money stinged with a two shot |
| Dirty cash shinin’next day, women get new rocks |
| Flashin’big heads, Hermy in benzies bangin’Tupac |
| He lay up with the wiz because it’s too hot |
| How the fuck them pussies try Myalansky bustin they ooh-wop? |
| ?Preparation verbalhands?, they want they loot butt |
| He must’ve been a mad man, only really thugs come at ya, shoot ya Chase your bitch up off the road up in a? |
| soup-up? |
| M.I.A. |
| chick found missin’in action, never no clue, what? |
| And still the beef been over too months, to gain this meal, you front |
| Ones that snitch, tongues get split, readin the clip, news at six |
| For funds and bricks, runnin your shit, gun at your click, lutunza hit |
| Fear type watch eyes that watch guys, wasn’t smart, why? |
| Holdin your clip in your slot time |
| Specialize a whole sale of hot nines |
| State is ill, surely pumpin coke on? |
| Locked in a frontline, cuz he was a fiend for chocolate-eyes |
| Bang Marvin Gay CD let’s get it on, makin a wretch cry |
| Bitches that he dated wasn’t dead fly |
| His ugly chick Sibrina said he was hungry off lu-chi |
| Shorty’s way of livin took a sen-sai, he was so surprised |
| Should of seen how he flinched when he got baptised |
| Took him to the safe and called told him? |
| clap ties? |
| One of his mans was throwin up cuz he panicked, slug in his left eye |
| Bleedin, heard the ambulance, the cat died |
| Escapin with the safe like a half of a cake, come on, yo, let’s slide |
| Amateurs frontin and shit, matchin in death, for funds and bricks |
| Cousin was rich, lutunza hit |