Thug Chronicles 歌词
| 歌曲 | Thug Chronicles |
| 歌手 | Kool G Rap |
| 专辑 | The Giancana Story |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Crespo, Herard, Muchita ... | |
| We bring the thug shit for real nigga | |
| You know how we do | |
| Y'all know how a nigga bring it | |
| Straight direct at you kid | |
| Like a Don from out of Sicily; under the arm is where the pistol be | |
| Top of your forehead, the kiss'll be | |
| planted ever so soft and gentle but die viciously | |
| Hours of torture, before the torture apply misery | |
| Days before I feel pity to give a guy liberty | |
| Seen him, his pants shitty and eyes all glittery | |
| I'll die a rich man before the FBI figure me | |
| 40 stories up, inside a high rise in Italy | |
| No hidden forces, only natural courses deliver me | |
| Gray hairs from the great years, fears never shiver me | |
| Reminscin, how we car-bombed ignitions | |
| of politicians, judges strong-armed to listen | |
| Men turnin up dead, or hurt harmed and missin | |
| Bulletproof cars are driven, Teflon edition | |
| Bodies cut up in large chunks, thrown in car trunks | |
| Music inside the bar stunk | |
| Gettin surrounded by bitches blowin cigars drunk | |
| One of my stonefaced goons'll make your heart pump | |
| Electrocution with cables that make the car jump | |
| The yard punks, that sinned with a life sentence for sellin hard junk | |
| The family, the whole commission | |
| Has been around since the days before prohibition (no doubt) | |
| Mathematics was good then, the slow addition | |
| Some overdosed down a coke slope, a dope addicition | |
| Lookin back on them days, I ran a whole division | |
| Some of the Jake and the state was tryin to throw the mission | |
| They caught a ticket ride to hell with no admission; beyond these tracks | |
| A life of networkin, sippin bourbon and co-gnac | |
| First version observin in stocks and bonds we stack | |
| The chronicles, these are the days of Don G Rap | |
| [Havoc] | |
| With, murder on his mind, take it in blood | |
| We takin that aim, and niggaz throwin shit in the game | |
| [Chorus: Havoc - repeat 2X] | |
| How it feel when we comin at you, these gats blowin at you | |
| Personally, don't give a FUCK where you at | |
| And an unfamiliar face, you know we like WHO DAT? | |
| On point nigga, it ain't goin down like that | |
| [Kool G Rap] | |
| We do our thing, underhandedly still, tuck a mill' | |
| For the family will, mansion and hot wheels in Amityville | |
| Treat a snitch nigga like Sam when he squeal | |
| Break the code of silence, just hand me the steel | |
| For every wrong done, a man'll be killed, there's plans to rebuild | |
| Curtains and drapes, got these Jakes tryin to can me for real | |
| Until then, be in the backyard with clam on the grill | |
| Or catch me laid up in the canope ill | |
| With two mamis handin me thrills; Vivica Fox body Vanity grills | |
| Rubberbandin these bills; tryin to duck the fame and the glamour | |
| Tryin to stay from out the range of the scanners | |
| Not tryin to get my frame in the camera | |
| Avoid tabloids and front pages | |
| Bums get knocked off and bumped for favors | |
| Collect Trump papers with pumps and gauges | |
| Royale suites when I bunk in Vegas | |
| Got homicide searchin the city dump for neighbors | |
| Pinky ring with a chunk of glacier | |
| Copped a spot with a bunch of acres | |
| Some of them got they bodies slumped for capers | |
| Barcaleno hat, ducks and gators | |
| Got a crib full of housemaids, butlers and waiters | |
| My click, from the minor league jump to major | |
| We gon' rock until we jackpot, FUCK THEM HATERS | |
| If we have to run up in City Hall, abduct the Mayor | |
| Any man against the master plan can fuck with craters! | |
| [Chorus] - repeat 1.5X | |
| [Havoc] Word |
| zuo ci : Crespo, Herard, Muchita ... | |
| We bring the thug shit for real nigga | |
| You know how we do | |
| Y' all know how a nigga bring it | |
| Straight direct at you kid | |
| Like a Don from out of Sicily under the arm is where the pistol be | |
| Top of your forehead, the kiss' ll be | |
| planted ever so soft and gentle but die viciously | |
| Hours of torture, before the torture apply misery | |
| Days before I feel pity to give a guy liberty | |
| Seen him, his pants shitty and eyes all glittery | |
| I' ll die a rich man before the FBI figure me | |
| 40 stories up, inside a high rise in Italy | |
| No hidden forces, only natural courses deliver me | |
| Gray hairs from the great years, fears never shiver me | |
| Reminscin, how we carbombed ignitions | |
| of politicians, judges strongarmed to listen | |
| Men turnin up dead, or hurt harmed and missin | |
| Bulletproof cars are driven, Teflon edition | |
| Bodies cut up in large chunks, thrown in car trunks | |
| Music inside the bar stunk | |
| Gettin surrounded by bitches blowin cigars drunk | |
| One of my stonefaced goons' ll make your heart pump | |
| Electrocution with cables that make the car jump | |
| The yard punks, that sinned with a life sentence for sellin hard junk | |
| The family, the whole commission | |
| Has been around since the days before prohibition no doubt | |
| Mathematics was good then, the slow addition | |
| Some overdosed down a coke slope, a dope addicition | |
| Lookin back on them days, I ran a whole division | |
| Some of the Jake and the state was tryin to throw the mission | |
| They caught a ticket ride to hell with no admission beyond these tracks | |
| A life of networkin, sippin bourbon and cognac | |
| First version observin in stocks and bonds we stack | |
| The chronicles, these are the days of Don G Rap | |
| Havoc | |
| With, murder on his mind, take it in blood | |
| We takin that aim, and niggaz throwin shit in the game | |
| Chorus: Havoc repeat 2X | |
| How it feel when we comin at you, these gats blowin at you | |
| Personally, don' t give a FUCK where you at | |
| And an unfamiliar face, you know we like WHO DAT? | |
| On point nigga, it ain' t goin down like that | |
| Kool G Rap | |
| We do our thing, underhandedly still, tuck a mill' | |
| For the family will, mansion and hot wheels in Amityville | |
| Treat a snitch nigga like Sam when he squeal | |
| Break the code of silence, just hand me the steel | |
| For every wrong done, a man' ll be killed, there' s plans to rebuild | |
| Curtains and drapes, got these Jakes tryin to can me for real | |
| Until then, be in the backyard with clam on the grill | |
| Or catch me laid up in the canope ill | |
| With two mamis handin me thrills Vivica Fox body Vanity grills | |
| Rubberbandin these bills tryin to duck the fame and the glamour | |
| Tryin to stay from out the range of the scanners | |
| Not tryin to get my frame in the camera | |
| Avoid tabloids and front pages | |
| Bums get knocked off and bumped for favors | |
| Collect Trump papers with pumps and gauges | |
| Royale suites when I bunk in Vegas | |
| Got homicide searchin the city dump for neighbors | |
| Pinky ring with a chunk of glacier | |
| Copped a spot with a bunch of acres | |
| Some of them got they bodies slumped for capers | |
| Barcaleno hat, ducks and gators | |
| Got a crib full of housemaids, butlers and waiters | |
| My click, from the minor league jump to major | |
| We gon' rock until we jackpot, FUCK THEM HATERS | |
| If we have to run up in City Hall, abduct the Mayor | |
| Any man against the master plan can fuck with craters! | |
| Chorus repeat 1. 5X | |
| Havoc Word |
| zuò cí : Crespo, Herard, Muchita ... | |
| We bring the thug shit for real nigga | |
| You know how we do | |
| Y' all know how a nigga bring it | |
| Straight direct at you kid | |
| Like a Don from out of Sicily under the arm is where the pistol be | |
| Top of your forehead, the kiss' ll be | |
| planted ever so soft and gentle but die viciously | |
| Hours of torture, before the torture apply misery | |
| Days before I feel pity to give a guy liberty | |
| Seen him, his pants shitty and eyes all glittery | |
| I' ll die a rich man before the FBI figure me | |
| 40 stories up, inside a high rise in Italy | |
| No hidden forces, only natural courses deliver me | |
| Gray hairs from the great years, fears never shiver me | |
| Reminscin, how we carbombed ignitions | |
| of politicians, judges strongarmed to listen | |
| Men turnin up dead, or hurt harmed and missin | |
| Bulletproof cars are driven, Teflon edition | |
| Bodies cut up in large chunks, thrown in car trunks | |
| Music inside the bar stunk | |
| Gettin surrounded by bitches blowin cigars drunk | |
| One of my stonefaced goons' ll make your heart pump | |
| Electrocution with cables that make the car jump | |
| The yard punks, that sinned with a life sentence for sellin hard junk | |
| The family, the whole commission | |
| Has been around since the days before prohibition no doubt | |
| Mathematics was good then, the slow addition | |
| Some overdosed down a coke slope, a dope addicition | |
| Lookin back on them days, I ran a whole division | |
| Some of the Jake and the state was tryin to throw the mission | |
| They caught a ticket ride to hell with no admission beyond these tracks | |
| A life of networkin, sippin bourbon and cognac | |
| First version observin in stocks and bonds we stack | |
| The chronicles, these are the days of Don G Rap | |
| Havoc | |
| With, murder on his mind, take it in blood | |
| We takin that aim, and niggaz throwin shit in the game | |
| Chorus: Havoc repeat 2X | |
| How it feel when we comin at you, these gats blowin at you | |
| Personally, don' t give a FUCK where you at | |
| And an unfamiliar face, you know we like WHO DAT? | |
| On point nigga, it ain' t goin down like that | |
| Kool G Rap | |
| We do our thing, underhandedly still, tuck a mill' | |
| For the family will, mansion and hot wheels in Amityville | |
| Treat a snitch nigga like Sam when he squeal | |
| Break the code of silence, just hand me the steel | |
| For every wrong done, a man' ll be killed, there' s plans to rebuild | |
| Curtains and drapes, got these Jakes tryin to can me for real | |
| Until then, be in the backyard with clam on the grill | |
| Or catch me laid up in the canope ill | |
| With two mamis handin me thrills Vivica Fox body Vanity grills | |
| Rubberbandin these bills tryin to duck the fame and the glamour | |
| Tryin to stay from out the range of the scanners | |
| Not tryin to get my frame in the camera | |
| Avoid tabloids and front pages | |
| Bums get knocked off and bumped for favors | |
| Collect Trump papers with pumps and gauges | |
| Royale suites when I bunk in Vegas | |
| Got homicide searchin the city dump for neighbors | |
| Pinky ring with a chunk of glacier | |
| Copped a spot with a bunch of acres | |
| Some of them got they bodies slumped for capers | |
| Barcaleno hat, ducks and gators | |
| Got a crib full of housemaids, butlers and waiters | |
| My click, from the minor league jump to major | |
| We gon' rock until we jackpot, FUCK THEM HATERS | |
| If we have to run up in City Hall, abduct the Mayor | |
| Any man against the master plan can fuck with craters! | |
| Chorus repeat 1. 5X | |
| Havoc Word |
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