up nigga? This the colonel, MP But uh Fiend nigga it's your muthafuckin' time to shine You gon' mix this shit up with bun B and pimp C U.G.K. and Fiend
Перевод: Злодей. Slangin '.
muthafuckin bustas [Chorus 1: Fiend] Boy, we down south bangin Rollin with these hustlers Tryin to get rid a you hatas and you bustas [Chorus 2: Fiend x3] Down south slangin
elementary? Heeey! I see the penitentiary, one day And runnin from the police, that's right Mama catch me, put a whoopin to my backside And even as a crack fiend
can get sponged, shake it hon All a brother know is make the hit get the dough Makin grandmas hit the floor, really though It's my thang my slang
you still in for some danger And when i'm thru, I take your bitch and finger bang her But if she looks tossed up, i'll slang her Beat you like mama
serious nigga [Project Pat] Call a nigga, drug dealer, out here on the track nigga Weed smoker, coke snorter, come and get a pack nigga Cane slanger
line Some dwell in hotels with Jezebels A stone age and fall a victim to the plague Unclean bad dreams of Wyclef being a fiend One last kiss from my
just call me that pro slang Them nickels and dimes and 20's and 50's The 1st be the day for the dopeman Slangin' that cocaine fool and I'm working late tonight And all them fiends
, dum, dum. They call me the Dummy Man [the Dummy Man ...], and I'm up early tryin?to slang my dope [I'm the nigga with the biggest rocks.]. The fiends
I'm weed, fiend for the green Nigga gotta make that money man I still be thuggin' in the khakis boots and skullies And since I'm weed, fiend for the green
they slanging them drugs Giving up shots out to the glock, glock Eighty eight to the ten five Them killas be pumping them slugs Niggas be fiending me
Face Mob Started with an eight ball, gotta get this cake dawg Give niggaz a break, nah, you know how the game go Fuck you think I slang fo', to go against
Mr. Mr. Scarface from walking down the block Out jumps some fiends and steals all his rocks Pulls out a gun and shoots down all the fiends And Mr. Mr.
wit' no regard I gotta do what I gotta do in this game I started small time, dope game, cocaine I went from quarters to ounces to slangin' ki's bitch
the Concrete where crack and we rose far We let things coming up I suppose What drove us to dream and pack things in our clothes Tell that pops was a fiend
ya, ya got beef Used to go to Skate King back when bangin' was in And if the fiends ain't have 20, we would slang it for 10 Drankin' the gin, posted
solution to the problems of the inner streets It's a shame what our kids are beginning to be Pregnant teenagers, young gun slangers There ain't no love
