歌曲 | Crime Saga |
歌手 | Shabazz the Disciple |
专辑 | The Book of Shabazz (Hidden Scrollz) |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Bess, Collins, Dubs | |
Yo it's that choco shit, esta loco shit | |
Straight up Carlo's best shit | |
Niggas wear vests shit, hey yo | |
It's a Red Hook crime saga | |
The names was changed to protect the guilty | |
[1st verse] | |
Yo shorty was used to bein jiggy | |
But then he fell off and did a bid for smackin this kid up in the city | |
Sittin pretty, pimpin the act and kept a stack on him | |
Pulled over one night and his man stashed wax on him | |
See he was wanted and his man started flippin on him | |
His mind was on it cause the law put a grippin on him | |
Shorty was feared and respected, known for slappin niggas | |
And strippin em, make em walk around the projects butt-naked | |
Nigga remind me of the goodfellas | |
But deep down his stick mens wanted to knock him off cause they was jealous | |
They made a deal and got him bagged, shit was foul | |
They got the manslaughter cause they knew he wouldn't lose the trial | |
Niggas was schemin all along and got acquitted on him | |
His girl and his man broke in the safe and then shitted on him | |
And now they livin the fast life and he's hittin that ass right | |
And gotta look to the glass pipe | |
[Chorus] | |
The game never change only the players | |
Some inherit castles and thrones, some end up deathbed layers | |
Victims of the system stripped mentally | |
Hit with 25 to life on a death penalty | |
[2nd verse] | |
Six months without a visit now he's gettin worried | |
He pull stink and yankin niggas for that commissary | |
Been down without, came home and still wanted that nigga dead | |
Got on the scene and put rewards out on a nigga head | |
Runnin to spots, it was hot so he fled out of state | |
Cause he's out on parole and his P.O.'s dyin to violate | |
His world is narrow, he's peril cause he's gonna run | |
Walkin in a buildin with his back against the door holdin his gun | |
One in the pipe ready to spank somethin | |
Cuttin grams with his man holdin the plate ready to shank somethin | |
See now he's gettin major money | |
Throwin bricks and niggas in his click started actin funny | |
He startin sniffin, gettin high off his own supply | |
Shorty was slippin and his ass was about to die | |
Pimped his workers, made em wear high heels and a skirt | |
Now they schemin to put his ten percent ass in the dirt | |
[Chorus] | |
[3rd verse] | |
He worked his way up from grime | |
And scrapin hand to hand on the block and slignin rocks on consignment | |
He got plugged and now he's jugglin bricks and movin weight | |
And bubblin gats and trafficin big eights out of the state | |
Faked his death and ducked the feds | |
But little do they know that his ex had put a price out on his ****in head | |
One night she plugged him to a pick up | |
She's supposed to pick a brick up | |
She led him right into a ****in stick up | |
His world was spinnin fast, the walls of hell were closin in | |
He knew that death was on his ass with adversaries and foes again | |
A hundred grand in the truck, look out for Chris tho | |
He was asleep, that nigga in the back seat packed a pistol | |
He put 2 in his Kangol and twist his wig back | |
Yanked the suitcase out the trunk, **** the snake basket | |
Left him slumped over the wheel with his wig peeled | |
Brains on the dashboard and blood all over the windshield | |
I watched him lay on his deathbed with a swollen head | |
Waitin for his heart to stop cause he was braindead | |
Angel of death was waitin by his bedside | |
He jerked around the next morning and then a tear ran down his left eye | |
Six men carried his coffin and put him six feet in the ground | |
While I stood six feet over in a black suit lookin down | |
Thinkin why was I chose to survive and bear these memories | |
****in with that dirty game death is always the penalty | |
Word, yo rest in peace my brother Rod, Grumpy, Junior, Hearn | |
YouknowI'msayin Jus, Jeffrey and my man Steve-o | |
They all was shot in the head | |
[Chorus] |
zuo qu : Bess, Collins, Dubs | |
Yo it' s that choco shit, esta loco shit | |
Straight up Carlo' s best shit | |
Niggas wear vests shit, hey yo | |
It' s a Red Hook crime saga | |
The names was changed to protect the guilty | |
[1st verse] | |
Yo shorty was used to bein jiggy | |
But then he fell off and did a bid for smackin this kid up in the city | |
Sittin pretty, pimpin the act and kept a stack on him | |
Pulled over one night and his man stashed wax on him | |
See he was wanted and his man started flippin on him | |
His mind was on it cause the law put a grippin on him | |
Shorty was feared and respected, known for slappin niggas | |
And strippin em, make em walk around the projects buttnaked | |
Nigga remind me of the goodfellas | |
But deep down his stick mens wanted to knock him off cause they was jealous | |
They made a deal and got him bagged, shit was foul | |
They got the manslaughter cause they knew he wouldn' t lose the trial | |
Niggas was schemin all along and got acquitted on him | |
His girl and his man broke in the safe and then shitted on him | |
And now they livin the fast life and he' s hittin that ass right | |
And gotta look to the glass pipe | |
Chorus | |
The game never change only the players | |
Some inherit castles and thrones, some end up deathbed layers | |
Victims of the system stripped mentally | |
Hit with 25 to life on a death penalty | |
[2nd verse] | |
Six months without a visit now he' s gettin worried | |
He pull stink and yankin niggas for that commissary | |
Been down without, came home and still wanted that nigga dead | |
Got on the scene and put rewards out on a nigga head | |
Runnin to spots, it was hot so he fled out of state | |
Cause he' s out on parole and his P. O.' s dyin to violate | |
His world is narrow, he' s peril cause he' s gonna run | |
Walkin in a buildin with his back against the door holdin his gun | |
One in the pipe ready to spank somethin | |
Cuttin grams with his man holdin the plate ready to shank somethin | |
See now he' s gettin major money | |
Throwin bricks and niggas in his click started actin funny | |
He startin sniffin, gettin high off his own supply | |
Shorty was slippin and his ass was about to die | |
Pimped his workers, made em wear high heels and a skirt | |
Now they schemin to put his ten percent ass in the dirt | |
Chorus | |
[3rd verse] | |
He worked his way up from grime | |
And scrapin hand to hand on the block and slignin rocks on consignment | |
He got plugged and now he' s jugglin bricks and movin weight | |
And bubblin gats and trafficin big eights out of the state | |
Faked his death and ducked the feds | |
But little do they know that his ex had put a price out on his in head | |
One night she plugged him to a pick up | |
She' s supposed to pick a brick up | |
She led him right into a in stick up | |
His world was spinnin fast, the walls of hell were closin in | |
He knew that death was on his ass with adversaries and foes again | |
A hundred grand in the truck, look out for Chris tho | |
He was asleep, that nigga in the back seat packed a pistol | |
He put 2 in his Kangol and twist his wig back | |
Yanked the suitcase out the trunk, the snake basket | |
Left him slumped over the wheel with his wig peeled | |
Brains on the dashboard and blood all over the windshield | |
I watched him lay on his deathbed with a swollen head | |
Waitin for his heart to stop cause he was braindead | |
Angel of death was waitin by his bedside | |
He jerked around the next morning and then a tear ran down his left eye | |
Six men carried his coffin and put him six feet in the ground | |
While I stood six feet over in a black suit lookin down | |
Thinkin why was I chose to survive and bear these memories | |
in with that dirty game death is always the penalty | |
Word, yo rest in peace my brother Rod, Grumpy, Junior, Hearn | |
YouknowI' msayin Jus, Jeffrey and my man Steveo | |
They all was shot in the head | |
Chorus |
zuò qǔ : Bess, Collins, Dubs | |
Yo it' s that choco shit, esta loco shit | |
Straight up Carlo' s best shit | |
Niggas wear vests shit, hey yo | |
It' s a Red Hook crime saga | |
The names was changed to protect the guilty | |
[1st verse] | |
Yo shorty was used to bein jiggy | |
But then he fell off and did a bid for smackin this kid up in the city | |
Sittin pretty, pimpin the act and kept a stack on him | |
Pulled over one night and his man stashed wax on him | |
See he was wanted and his man started flippin on him | |
His mind was on it cause the law put a grippin on him | |
Shorty was feared and respected, known for slappin niggas | |
And strippin em, make em walk around the projects buttnaked | |
Nigga remind me of the goodfellas | |
But deep down his stick mens wanted to knock him off cause they was jealous | |
They made a deal and got him bagged, shit was foul | |
They got the manslaughter cause they knew he wouldn' t lose the trial | |
Niggas was schemin all along and got acquitted on him | |
His girl and his man broke in the safe and then shitted on him | |
And now they livin the fast life and he' s hittin that ass right | |
And gotta look to the glass pipe | |
Chorus | |
The game never change only the players | |
Some inherit castles and thrones, some end up deathbed layers | |
Victims of the system stripped mentally | |
Hit with 25 to life on a death penalty | |
[2nd verse] | |
Six months without a visit now he' s gettin worried | |
He pull stink and yankin niggas for that commissary | |
Been down without, came home and still wanted that nigga dead | |
Got on the scene and put rewards out on a nigga head | |
Runnin to spots, it was hot so he fled out of state | |
Cause he' s out on parole and his P. O.' s dyin to violate | |
His world is narrow, he' s peril cause he' s gonna run | |
Walkin in a buildin with his back against the door holdin his gun | |
One in the pipe ready to spank somethin | |
Cuttin grams with his man holdin the plate ready to shank somethin | |
See now he' s gettin major money | |
Throwin bricks and niggas in his click started actin funny | |
He startin sniffin, gettin high off his own supply | |
Shorty was slippin and his ass was about to die | |
Pimped his workers, made em wear high heels and a skirt | |
Now they schemin to put his ten percent ass in the dirt | |
Chorus | |
[3rd verse] | |
He worked his way up from grime | |
And scrapin hand to hand on the block and slignin rocks on consignment | |
He got plugged and now he' s jugglin bricks and movin weight | |
And bubblin gats and trafficin big eights out of the state | |
Faked his death and ducked the feds | |
But little do they know that his ex had put a price out on his in head | |
One night she plugged him to a pick up | |
She' s supposed to pick a brick up | |
She led him right into a in stick up | |
His world was spinnin fast, the walls of hell were closin in | |
He knew that death was on his ass with adversaries and foes again | |
A hundred grand in the truck, look out for Chris tho | |
He was asleep, that nigga in the back seat packed a pistol | |
He put 2 in his Kangol and twist his wig back | |
Yanked the suitcase out the trunk, the snake basket | |
Left him slumped over the wheel with his wig peeled | |
Brains on the dashboard and blood all over the windshield | |
I watched him lay on his deathbed with a swollen head | |
Waitin for his heart to stop cause he was braindead | |
Angel of death was waitin by his bedside | |
He jerked around the next morning and then a tear ran down his left eye | |
Six men carried his coffin and put him six feet in the ground | |
While I stood six feet over in a black suit lookin down | |
Thinkin why was I chose to survive and bear these memories | |
in with that dirty game death is always the penalty | |
Word, yo rest in peace my brother Rod, Grumpy, Junior, Hearn | |
YouknowI' msayin Jus, Jeffrey and my man Steveo | |
They all was shot in the head | |
Chorus |