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My niggas pull triggas,
stack figures,
Whoa whoa whoa
Snitch niggas, broke niggas, not my niggas,
No no no
In the club we sippin’ Don P, sittin’ lovely,
Оh whoa whoa
Sexy ladies goin’ crazy ’cause the beats
Like whoa whoa
Fresh out the federal building
To Bently Coupes with the convertable ceilings
It’s the Black Widow, call me Ms. White
I done been through it all, shoot-outs and fist fights
Brooklyn bitch, you go wrong
I get right
Back with a classic,
Now gimmie 6 mics
Can’t reach me on the phone,
Then send a bitch a kite
Man I do’s it in heels or a pair of crisp Nikes
Stand behind Martin Luther King
but I’m more like Malcolm X
Guerillas beatin’ on they chest,
get it right, I’m Malcom X
Please keep the peace
’cause if cowards show me disrespect
My niggas put his soul to rest,
I don’t wanna see who’s next
Champagne on my campaign, Kim for mayor
Told you I’m the same bitch from the escalator
And I ain’t trippin’ off you rats and investigators
Get your envelopes, time to address the haters
Me and my team we trying to own casinos
So we can all cop a crib like Pacino’s
Come through in a ’06 Benz-ito
The feds tryin’ to shut us down like Nino
We keep it goin’ man, we keep it goin’ man
Won’t stop, can’t, gotta keep it goin’ man
See I do it for the fans,
they’ll never understand
While they goin’ off course, me I’m stickin’ to the plan
Feel the movement, it’s a whole new crew
Fuck Junior M.A.F.I.A., that chapter’s through
Them faggots done did something that they can’t undo
Whoever ridin’ wit’ ’em they can get one too
Coulda copped out to a 1 to 3 do
Still took it to trial even though I blew
Brooklyn style baby, that’s how we do it
Real gangstas and ain’t got to prove it
Now a party ain’t a party
’till the Queen come through
You know where I go man,
the team come too
Pull up in the Phantom or the V-1-2
Lil’ Kim’s that girl
even got her own shoe
In the club with my clique though, glass full of Crist-o
In the jail jumpsuit still a bad bitch though
Rose from the ghetto, it was hard from the get go
Then I showed the hood, the world ain’t just for rich folk
Get ya lil’ dance up,
B-K stand up
Straight to the dance floor, everybody hands up
Throw it up, get down,
fellas hold ya pants up
Ladies throw it right back,
tell that nigga man up
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Black Friday
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Текст песни (исполняет Lil’ Kim)
Перевод песни (автор пожелал остаться неизвестным)
Who the fuck want war?
Fed Ex beef straight to your front door
It will be a murder scene
I’ll turn Pink Friday into Friday the 13th
Alright you Little Kim clone clown
All this buffoonery, this shit stops now
Time for you to lay down, I’m sick of the frauds
I put hands on this bitch like a spa massage
We all know your last name is what got you your job
You a put together gimmick, something like a collage
Since you puttin on a show, you gon get the applause
Clap, clap, lift ya frame like a fucking garage
This hood shit you and Drake ain’t built for
This the shit this other bitch almost got killed for
I still counting what Hardcore generated
Bet my shit keeps spinning like its syndicated
Corny broad I’ll leave you bloody like you menstruated
Your hot air ass, should have been deflated
This ain’t a championship fight I been the greatest
See the fact is what you doing. I did it
Lames trying to clone my style and run with it
Thats cool. I was the first one with it
Yous a Lil’ Kim wanna be, You just hate to admit it
I’m the blueprint, You ain’t nothing brand new
Check ya posters and videos, You will always be number 2
I seen them come. I seen them go. Still I remain
Sweety you on your 14th minute of fame
Im over 10 year strong still running the game
Cut the comparison, I’m in the legendary lane
Fighting for a spot. Child please I’m solidified
With my hands tied, you couldn’t beat me if you bitches tried
Either you high or sippin that shit Wayne on
I get top dollar for whatever my name on
Go stick your head in a tornado- Brainstorm
I drop bombs- Flex, Napalms
Black and yellow, we’ll pull up in your ghetto
Giuseppes when I step out, posted up in stilettos
Pussy so pink like my kitty sayin hello
If I whistle they’ll pistol whip you in all 5 boroughs
I’m from Brooklyn I be everywhere comfortably
Now who pumped you and told you to come rump with me?
You the type to run your mouth and then run from me
Im poppin off in your hood with no company
C’mon, Queens ain’t showin you no love
I was there the other night poppin bottles with the thugs
You like Washington heffa I’m Benji
You got a buzz right now, I had a frenzy
Oh yeah welcome to the fam Fendi
You need to stop, you’re not hot you’re a burning match
That means the end is near soon, copy that?
Oh I see they really got you gassed, like Im a thing of the past
Betta slow down dummy, you about to crash
Stank pussy ho, Im givin you a bath
Thermometer in hand and I’m comin for you ass
Who you think you gettin passed?
I see right through you your whole shit is made of glass
I draw back
I’m a Brooklyn through bitch, rep for my borough bitch
Never been the type to have beef and try to settle shit
I ride out til the wheels fall off
And my niggas squeeze til the last shell go off
Fuck your whole team all I see is a bunch of wierdos
You’sa airhead bitch- scarecrow
Ain’t nothin old but my money bitch
This is grown liquid assets
Benjamin’s my daddy you Young Money bastards
You and Diddy- sorry bunch of swagger jackers
I mothered you hoes I should claim you on my income taxes
Bobby Fischer in the flesh, taught by the great
So on my next move I’m yellin’ checkmate
I smell a massacre
I’m Charles Manson, you don’t stand a chance with her
Jeffrey Dahmer and you lookin like lunch to me
Bout to kill all you bitches like Ted Bundy
Leave your whole head red like Pegg Bundy
You’re hilarious. thanks for all the laughs
You’re garbage, so I’m takin out the trash
You? Shit on me?
C’mon baby girl- Ain’t enough ass shots in the world
You’re a nuisance, you’d probably steal my new shit
But you could never fuck with me
So chuck it up deuces
All around the world I ball like a ball team
I stack chips, call me Miss Rothstein
Tricks is for kids silly rabbit you’re my offspring
Kim more anticipated than a Lebron ring
Перевод добавил(а): trsongs.
Добавлен/редактирован: 12.06.2013 Просмотров: 5392
Перевод песни Whoa (Lil’ Kim)
My niggas pull triggas,
stack figures,
Whoa whoa whoa
Snitch niggas, broke niggas, not my niggas,
No no no
In the club we sippin’ Don P, sittin’ lovely,
Оh whoa whoa
Sexy ladies goin’ crazy ’cause the beats
Like whoa whoa
Fresh out the federal building
To Bently Coupes with the convertable ceilings
It’s the Black Widow, call me Ms. White
I done been through it all, shoot-outs and fist fights
Brooklyn bitch, you go wrong
I get right
Back with a classic,
Now gimmie 6 mics
Can’t reach me on the phone,
Then send a bitch a kite
Man I do’s it in heels or a pair of crisp Nikes
Stand behind Martin Luther King
but I’m more like Malcolm X
Guerillas beatin’ on they chest,
get it right, I’m Malcom X
Please keep the peace
’cause if cowards show me disrespect
My niggas put his soul to rest,
I don’t wanna see who’s next
Champagne on my campaign, Kim for mayor
Told you I’m the same bitch from the escalator
And I ain’t trippin’ off you rats and investigators
Get your envelopes, time to address the haters
Me and my team we trying to own casinos
So we can all cop a crib like Pacino’s
Come through in a ’06 Benz-ito
The feds tryin’ to shut us down like Nino
We keep it goin’ man, we keep it goin’ man
Won’t stop, can’t, gotta keep it goin’ man
See I do it for the fans,
they’ll never understand
While they goin’ off course, me I’m stickin’ to the plan
Feel the movement, it’s a whole new crew
Fuck Junior M.A.F.I.A., that chapter’s through
Them faggots done did something that they can’t undo
Whoever ridin’ wit’ ’em they can get one too
Coulda copped out to a 1 to 3 do
Still took it to trial even though I blew
Brooklyn style baby, that’s how we do it
Real gangstas and ain’t got to prove it
Now a party ain’t a party
’till the Queen come through
You know where I go man,
the team come too
Pull up in the Phantom or the V-1-2
Lil’ Kim’s that girl
even got her own shoe
In the club with my clique though, glass full of Crist-o
In the jail jumpsuit still a bad bitch though
Rose from the ghetto, it was hard from the get go
Then I showed the hood, the world ain’t just for rich folk
Get ya lil’ dance up,
B-K stand up
Straight to the dance floor, everybody hands up
Throw it up, get down,
fellas hold ya pants up
Ladies throw it right back,
tell that nigga man up