歌曲 | Click and Spark |
歌手 | Fabolous |
专辑 | Ghetto Fabolous |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Ifill, Jackson, Shaw | |
作词 : IFILL, KEN/JACKSON, JOHN DAVID/SHAW, ERNESTO | |
D.J Clue, Desert Storm | |
You know how we do things | |
(uh)Right now (uh), whachu bout to hear (uh, yea) | |
whachu bout to witness | |
(Fab) F A B O L O U S | |
(Clue)(O L O U S!) | |
(Clue)Come on, my man Fabolous (uh, yea, uh) | |
the album, Ghetto Fabolous (come on, uh, yo) | |
Come on man!! | |
(Fabolous) | |
My gun go click and spark | |
Don't leave witnesses to point me out on 106 and Park | |
Son those slick remarks, gon' get you | |
Bla-bla da da,bla-bla da da da da (blaow!) | |
Y'all walk through my p's in karats | |
Wind up hook on machines, livin' like peas and carrots | |
Ya team wanna beef, thats when I screw the muzzle on the tip | |
And strap the beam underneath | |
When I ride through, ya dont see no lid | |
I put snipers on the roof like Nino did | |
All it takes is some c-note slid | |
To have you on the news askin if anyone seen yo' kid | |
I dont scream it in a rough tone | |
I got spots in the whip to stuff crome, that would of help Puff Combs | |
Every hustler on this planet ask | |
Givin' away twenties so big, they in sandwhich bags, nigga | |
uh, yea | |
F A B, O L O U S | |
yea, fo real, uh, yo, uh | |
(Verse 2) | |
These niggaz gots to be punched | |
Act stupid, get shells in ya stomache, like you ate pasta for lunch | |
If I let this diablo door raid | |
I'ma have the front of ya crib lookin like Diallos doorway | |
See I know all yays, we buy ours pure-yay | |
We waitin on boats, these guys go Broadway | |
Ya gon make me tie a bomb under ya Benz | |
See how much you talk wit firearms under ya chin | |
No you can't take the coupe wit dishes | |
Cause when I hit the highway, it always makes the troop suspicious | |
Please, I get my dollar from the hersey | |
I'm on that fly gangsta shit, I pop the collar on my jersey | |
You know I got the heat the way the Vanson is bendin | |
Same laid back flow, no dancin' or grinin' | |
Who else can it be spellin it at them | |
You have them tappin they friend like "I'm tellin you that's him", stupid |
zuo qu : Ifill, Jackson, Shaw | |
zuo ci : IFILL, KEN JACKSON, JOHN DAVID SHAW, ERNESTO | |
D. J Clue, Desert Storm | |
You know how we do things | |
uh Right now uh, whachu bout to hear uh, yea | |
whachu bout to witness | |
Fab F A B O L O U S | |
Clue O L O U S! | |
Clue Come on, my man Fabolous uh, yea, uh | |
the album, Ghetto Fabolous come on, uh, yo | |
Come on man!! | |
Fabolous | |
My gun go click and spark | |
Don' t leave witnesses to point me out on 106 and Park | |
Son those slick remarks, gon' get you | |
Blabla da da, blabla da da da da blaow! | |
Y' all walk through my p' s in karats | |
Wind up hook on machines, livin' like peas and carrots | |
Ya team wanna beef, thats when I screw the muzzle on the tip | |
And strap the beam underneath | |
When I ride through, ya dont see no lid | |
I put snipers on the roof like Nino did | |
All it takes is some cnote slid | |
To have you on the news askin if anyone seen yo' kid | |
I dont scream it in a rough tone | |
I got spots in the whip to stuff crome, that would of help Puff Combs | |
Every hustler on this planet ask | |
Givin' away twenties so big, they in sandwhich bags, nigga | |
uh, yea | |
F A B, O L O U S | |
yea, fo real, uh, yo, uh | |
Verse 2 | |
These niggaz gots to be punched | |
Act stupid, get shells in ya stomache, like you ate pasta for lunch | |
If I let this diablo door raid | |
I' ma have the front of ya crib lookin like Diallos doorway | |
See I know all yays, we buy ours pureyay | |
We waitin on boats, these guys go Broadway | |
Ya gon make me tie a bomb under ya Benz | |
See how much you talk wit firearms under ya chin | |
No you can' t take the coupe wit dishes | |
Cause when I hit the highway, it always makes the troop suspicious | |
Please, I get my dollar from the hersey | |
I' m on that fly gangsta shit, I pop the collar on my jersey | |
You know I got the heat the way the Vanson is bendin | |
Same laid back flow, no dancin' or grinin' | |
Who else can it be spellin it at them | |
You have them tappin they friend like " I' m tellin you that' s him", stupid |
zuò qǔ : Ifill, Jackson, Shaw | |
zuò cí : IFILL, KEN JACKSON, JOHN DAVID SHAW, ERNESTO | |
D. J Clue, Desert Storm | |
You know how we do things | |
uh Right now uh, whachu bout to hear uh, yea | |
whachu bout to witness | |
Fab F A B O L O U S | |
Clue O L O U S! | |
Clue Come on, my man Fabolous uh, yea, uh | |
the album, Ghetto Fabolous come on, uh, yo | |
Come on man!! | |
Fabolous | |
My gun go click and spark | |
Don' t leave witnesses to point me out on 106 and Park | |
Son those slick remarks, gon' get you | |
Blabla da da, blabla da da da da blaow! | |
Y' all walk through my p' s in karats | |
Wind up hook on machines, livin' like peas and carrots | |
Ya team wanna beef, thats when I screw the muzzle on the tip | |
And strap the beam underneath | |
When I ride through, ya dont see no lid | |
I put snipers on the roof like Nino did | |
All it takes is some cnote slid | |
To have you on the news askin if anyone seen yo' kid | |
I dont scream it in a rough tone | |
I got spots in the whip to stuff crome, that would of help Puff Combs | |
Every hustler on this planet ask | |
Givin' away twenties so big, they in sandwhich bags, nigga | |
uh, yea | |
F A B, O L O U S | |
yea, fo real, uh, yo, uh | |
Verse 2 | |
These niggaz gots to be punched | |
Act stupid, get shells in ya stomache, like you ate pasta for lunch | |
If I let this diablo door raid | |
I' ma have the front of ya crib lookin like Diallos doorway | |
See I know all yays, we buy ours pureyay | |
We waitin on boats, these guys go Broadway | |
Ya gon make me tie a bomb under ya Benz | |
See how much you talk wit firearms under ya chin | |
No you can' t take the coupe wit dishes | |
Cause when I hit the highway, it always makes the troop suspicious | |
Please, I get my dollar from the hersey | |
I' m on that fly gangsta shit, I pop the collar on my jersey | |
You know I got the heat the way the Vanson is bendin | |
Same laid back flow, no dancin' or grinin' | |
Who else can it be spellin it at them | |
You have them tappin they friend like " I' m tellin you that' s him", stupid |