Raw Heat 歌词
| 歌曲 | Raw Heat |
| 歌手 | Percee P |
| 专辑 | Perseverance |
| 下载 | Image LRC TXT |
| 作曲 : Jackson, Simon | |
| Big Perce, keepin it hot | |
| Raw heat, cause a nigga gotta eat | |
| It ain't funny when a nigga gotta get money | |
| A nigga still doin this cause we hungry | |
| Step into the spot, ladies drop it like it's hot | |
| Reppin the block, make the brothers pop their knots | |
| It ain't funny when a nigga gotta get money | |
| A nigga still doin this cause we hungry | |
| [Percee P] | |
| Copycats is done when tracks are done and my style of rap is sung | |
| At the maximum, it collapse your lungs | |
| I'm dead up, nigga batter up, you outta luck | |
| I scatter ducks with shit that'll fuck yo' head up | |
| Figure you fuckin with-a, bigger nigga, that'll rip-ya | |
| That nigga switch your tone now sit your butt down and get the picture | |
| I'm capable to scrape your crew | |
| Put it on pay per view to make a few mill' an estate or two | |
| You hurt up, or get smashed, quick fast if your shit's trash | |
| You better skip past because I kick ass, word up | |
| Splash it, burnin bastards like sulphuric acid | |
| My jurassic classic styles are just mastered to crash ya | |
| Don't push a Beemer, a Montero through my borough too thorough | |
| Come through the ghetto get blasted like Hiroshima~! | |
| The underrated one that made it, guns are traded | |
| for my style cause they leave lungs deflated | |
| Percee P rap is worship me they idol | |
| Takin titles with vital rappers sided since nursery jeweler | |
| Zoological ya, can accumulate what's in my medulla | |
| Your molecular structure ruptured with tumors | |
| [Chorus] | |
| [Percee P] | |
| What I state's a blessing, can't make a session, tape the lesson | |
| Scrape the best and give 'em hard times like the Great Depression | |
| Adversaries bring your crew I do vary stingers | |
| Leave every finger broke like guests on Jerry Springer when I write | |
| Hit you like, Ripple, hard like your wife nipple, chocolate icicles | |
| Fisher Price fit you when those on the mic switch you | |
| Believe me you see me up like I'm a graffiti | |
| Artist hot as Tahiti, rapper tail the streets of Cabrini (are dimes near?) | |
| I step up like you climb stairs if the sign's clear, all lines here | |
| Get across East to West like shuttles at Times Square | |
| Turf BX, strong kids leave they borns with birth defects | |
| Uhh, mics fell from my delivery of soliloquoys | |
| I'm deadly as killer bees but more iller G, got you feelin me like braille | |
| The ebony, one that's ever thee branded never need melodies | |
| Cleverly I drop bombs heavenly like I'm Lebanese | |
| Cop and tap, overseas shockin Japs, I'm toppin that | |
| Whack shit you poppin blunt droppin wraps the heads as tight as stocking caps | |
| I hit thighs and rip guys, clones bit my, styles to get by | |
| Gimmicks limited thoughts and resort to get hotter than lah | |
| See what? You versus me? Go first G | |
| Disperse B, you like Hershey's mixed with Percee P nuts | |
| "AWW YEAH~! Aight..." |
| zuo qu : Jackson, Simon | |
| Big Perce, keepin it hot | |
| Raw heat, cause a nigga gotta eat | |
| It ain' t funny when a nigga gotta get money | |
| A nigga still doin this cause we hungry | |
| Step into the spot, ladies drop it like it' s hot | |
| Reppin the block, make the brothers pop their knots | |
| It ain' t funny when a nigga gotta get money | |
| A nigga still doin this cause we hungry | |
| Percee P | |
| Copycats is done when tracks are done and my style of rap is sung | |
| At the maximum, it collapse your lungs | |
| I' m dead up, nigga batter up, you outta luck | |
| I scatter ducks with shit that' ll fuck yo' head up | |
| Figure you fuckin witha, bigger nigga, that' ll ripya | |
| That nigga switch your tone now sit your butt down and get the picture | |
| I' m capable to scrape your crew | |
| Put it on pay per view to make a few mill' an estate or two | |
| You hurt up, or get smashed, quick fast if your shit' s trash | |
| You better skip past because I kick ass, word up | |
| Splash it, burnin bastards like sulphuric acid | |
| My jurassic classic styles are just mastered to crash ya | |
| Don' t push a Beemer, a Montero through my borough too thorough | |
| Come through the ghetto get blasted like Hiroshima! | |
| The underrated one that made it, guns are traded | |
| for my style cause they leave lungs deflated | |
| Percee P rap is worship me they idol | |
| Takin titles with vital rappers sided since nursery jeweler | |
| Zoological ya, can accumulate what' s in my medulla | |
| Your molecular structure ruptured with tumors | |
| Chorus | |
| Percee P | |
| What I state' s a blessing, can' t make a session, tape the lesson | |
| Scrape the best and give ' em hard times like the Great Depression | |
| Adversaries bring your crew I do vary stingers | |
| Leave every finger broke like guests on Jerry Springer when I write | |
| Hit you like, Ripple, hard like your wife nipple, chocolate icicles | |
| Fisher Price fit you when those on the mic switch you | |
| Believe me you see me up like I' m a graffiti | |
| Artist hot as Tahiti, rapper tail the streets of Cabrini are dimes near? | |
| I step up like you climb stairs if the sign' s clear, all lines here | |
| Get across East to West like shuttles at Times Square | |
| Turf BX, strong kids leave they borns with birth defects | |
| Uhh, mics fell from my delivery of soliloquoys | |
| I' m deadly as killer bees but more iller G, got you feelin me like braille | |
| The ebony, one that' s ever thee branded never need melodies | |
| Cleverly I drop bombs heavenly like I' m Lebanese | |
| Cop and tap, overseas shockin Japs, I' m toppin that | |
| Whack shit you poppin blunt droppin wraps the heads as tight as stocking caps | |
| I hit thighs and rip guys, clones bit my, styles to get by | |
| Gimmicks limited thoughts and resort to get hotter than lah | |
| See what? You versus me? Go first G | |
| Disperse B, you like Hershey' s mixed with Percee P nuts | |
| " AWW YEAH! Aight..." |
| zuò qǔ : Jackson, Simon | |
| Big Perce, keepin it hot | |
| Raw heat, cause a nigga gotta eat | |
| It ain' t funny when a nigga gotta get money | |
| A nigga still doin this cause we hungry | |
| Step into the spot, ladies drop it like it' s hot | |
| Reppin the block, make the brothers pop their knots | |
| It ain' t funny when a nigga gotta get money | |
| A nigga still doin this cause we hungry | |
| Percee P | |
| Copycats is done when tracks are done and my style of rap is sung | |
| At the maximum, it collapse your lungs | |
| I' m dead up, nigga batter up, you outta luck | |
| I scatter ducks with shit that' ll fuck yo' head up | |
| Figure you fuckin witha, bigger nigga, that' ll ripya | |
| That nigga switch your tone now sit your butt down and get the picture | |
| I' m capable to scrape your crew | |
| Put it on pay per view to make a few mill' an estate or two | |
| You hurt up, or get smashed, quick fast if your shit' s trash | |
| You better skip past because I kick ass, word up | |
| Splash it, burnin bastards like sulphuric acid | |
| My jurassic classic styles are just mastered to crash ya | |
| Don' t push a Beemer, a Montero through my borough too thorough | |
| Come through the ghetto get blasted like Hiroshima! | |
| The underrated one that made it, guns are traded | |
| for my style cause they leave lungs deflated | |
| Percee P rap is worship me they idol | |
| Takin titles with vital rappers sided since nursery jeweler | |
| Zoological ya, can accumulate what' s in my medulla | |
| Your molecular structure ruptured with tumors | |
| Chorus | |
| Percee P | |
| What I state' s a blessing, can' t make a session, tape the lesson | |
| Scrape the best and give ' em hard times like the Great Depression | |
| Adversaries bring your crew I do vary stingers | |
| Leave every finger broke like guests on Jerry Springer when I write | |
| Hit you like, Ripple, hard like your wife nipple, chocolate icicles | |
| Fisher Price fit you when those on the mic switch you | |
| Believe me you see me up like I' m a graffiti | |
| Artist hot as Tahiti, rapper tail the streets of Cabrini are dimes near? | |
| I step up like you climb stairs if the sign' s clear, all lines here | |
| Get across East to West like shuttles at Times Square | |
| Turf BX, strong kids leave they borns with birth defects | |
| Uhh, mics fell from my delivery of soliloquoys | |
| I' m deadly as killer bees but more iller G, got you feelin me like braille | |
| The ebony, one that' s ever thee branded never need melodies | |
| Cleverly I drop bombs heavenly like I' m Lebanese | |
| Cop and tap, overseas shockin Japs, I' m toppin that | |
| Whack shit you poppin blunt droppin wraps the heads as tight as stocking caps | |
| I hit thighs and rip guys, clones bit my, styles to get by | |
| Gimmicks limited thoughts and resort to get hotter than lah | |
| See what? You versus me? Go first G | |
| Disperse B, you like Hershey' s mixed with Percee P nuts | |
| " AWW YEAH! Aight..." |
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