歌曲 | The Onslaught |
歌手 | Black Moon |
专辑 | War Zone |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Blake, Clinton, Collins ... | |
(feat. Busta Rhymes) | |
[Busta R.] Flipmode, Boot Camp, alliance official | |
[Buckshot] ************t hit your chest like sess | |
[Busta R.] Each and every time | |
(Whattup ******?) Yeah whattup ******? | |
(Y'all ******z chillin?) The Sun don't chill ****** | |
[Buckshot] Hate y'all little ******z | |
Listen to this right here mother****** what? | |
[Buckshot] Knahmsayin, ************t be kinda close | |
Hittin you up with some real ************t, feel this ****** | |
[Buckshot] | |
Buck spread love like the Pope, but I never spread false hope | |
I bring the bomb squad close, rock you with a dose | |
of TNT, ******z ain't believe in me? | |
I'm comin back for all them ******z who be thievin me | |
I'm incredible, also edible | |
Rock it in the stage show, see me in the interview | |
Wanna be worldwide, but you can't ****** with I | |
You try, you die; don't deny the fact that you got your back | |
blown by binoculars, the way I'm rockin ya | |
and drop-toppin ya, dough low go for dolo in Cali | |
All my Outlawz form a rally and we _Bomb First_ ****** | |
Pull the trigga, see what happen if you hestitate | |
and cut yoour blood supply short | |
The bloodsport, the mother****** onslaught | |
[CHORUS: Busta Rhymes] | |
Yo, now in the onslaught, y'all ******z got caught | |
Now we can run a full court all in a bloodsport | |
And while we hold the fort, cut ya like live shorts | |
Feel the pressure burn a ****** like a Newport! | |
[Buckshot] | |
Comin for you | |
I used to sit back, and let a lot of ************t | |
get to my head, wanted to dead a lot of ************t | |
A lot of fake ******z, frontin in the game with | |
a little record deal but still drive the same whip | |
Damn shame ain't it? The vision that they show you | |
in they videos'll make you think them ******z moved out the ghetto | |
Oh? Don't get me wrong, I ain't tryin to stay | |
But ************t, at the same time I ain't tryin to run away | |
A lot of family is left behind | |
A lot of my ******z is left to grind, some still do crime | |
Some do time, but, no matter what | |
None of my ******z keep an empty shell inside the nine | |
******back, ****** up the Evil Dee track and make the mind react | |
Smoke a phat one listen to Buck and get black | |
As a matter of fact | |
Even if you don't smoke you can feel the contact | |
[CHORUS] | |
[Buckshot] | |
Comin for you | |
Jump through the window to your rescue I guess you | |
heard the rest do, all that rap ************t but in fact it | |
sounded kinda good until I let you hear this phat ************t | |
You lack ************t, ****** track this | |
Record this, oh my lord this is the warnin sign for y'all | |
B.D. wann ball; is you feelin me? Let me know somethin | |
And if you see me lookin sober, let me smoke somethin | |
Pump it up like D, film me like Spike Lee | |
Bodycount like Ice-T, do it nicely | |
Nice to see, that ****** Buck..shot .. rappin | |
****** it, I'ma make it happen | |
All my ******z stick to gunclappin, don't change | |
From my street ******z up to my ****** Starang | |
Bang bang ******, can you hang, ******? | |
It's your fault you got caught in the rain, ****** | |
[CHORUS] |
zuo qu : Blake, Clinton, Collins ... | |
feat. Busta Rhymes | |
Busta R. Flipmode, Boot Camp, alliance official | |
Buckshot t hit your chest like sess | |
Busta R. Each and every time | |
Whattup ? Yeah whattup ? | |
Y' all z chillin? The Sun don' t chill | |
Buckshot Hate y' all little z | |
Listen to this right here mother what? | |
Buckshot Knahmsayin, t be kinda close | |
Hittin you up with some real t, feel this | |
Buckshot | |
Buck spread love like the Pope, but I never spread false hope | |
I bring the bomb squad close, rock you with a dose | |
of TNT, z ain' t believe in me? | |
I' m comin back for all them z who be thievin me | |
I' m incredible, also edible | |
Rock it in the stage show, see me in the interview | |
Wanna be worldwide, but you can' t with I | |
You try, you die don' t deny the fact that you got your back | |
blown by binoculars, the way I' m rockin ya | |
and droptoppin ya, dough low go for dolo in Cali | |
All my Outlawz form a rally and we _Bomb First_ | |
Pull the trigga, see what happen if you hestitate | |
and cut yoour blood supply short | |
The bloodsport, the mother onslaught | |
CHORUS: Busta Rhymes | |
Yo, now in the onslaught, y' all z got caught | |
Now we can run a full court all in a bloodsport | |
And while we hold the fort, cut ya like live shorts | |
Feel the pressure burn a like a Newport! | |
Buckshot | |
Comin for you | |
I used to sit back, and let a lot of t | |
get to my head, wanted to dead a lot of t | |
A lot of fake z, frontin in the game with | |
a little record deal but still drive the same whip | |
Damn shame ain' t it? The vision that they show you | |
in they videos' ll make you think them z moved out the ghetto | |
Oh? Don' t get me wrong, I ain' t tryin to stay | |
But t, at the same time I ain' t tryin to run away | |
A lot of family is left behind | |
A lot of my z is left to grind, some still do crime | |
Some do time, but, no matter what | |
None of my z keep an empty shell inside the nine | |
back, up the Evil Dee track and make the mind react | |
Smoke a phat one listen to Buck and get black | |
As a matter of fact | |
Even if you don' t smoke you can feel the contact | |
CHORUS | |
Buckshot | |
Comin for you | |
Jump through the window to your rescue I guess you | |
heard the rest do, all that rap t but in fact it | |
sounded kinda good until I let you hear this phat t | |
You lack t, track this | |
Record this, oh my lord this is the warnin sign for y' all | |
B. D. wann ball is you feelin me? Let me know somethin | |
And if you see me lookin sober, let me smoke somethin | |
Pump it up like D, film me like Spike Lee | |
Bodycount like IceT, do it nicely | |
Nice to see, that Buck.. shot .. rappin | |
it, I' ma make it happen | |
All my z stick to gunclappin, don' t change | |
From my street z up to my Starang | |
Bang bang , can you hang, ? | |
It' s your fault you got caught in the rain, | |
CHORUS |
zuò qǔ : Blake, Clinton, Collins ... | |
feat. Busta Rhymes | |
Busta R. Flipmode, Boot Camp, alliance official | |
Buckshot t hit your chest like sess | |
Busta R. Each and every time | |
Whattup ? Yeah whattup ? | |
Y' all z chillin? The Sun don' t chill | |
Buckshot Hate y' all little z | |
Listen to this right here mother what? | |
Buckshot Knahmsayin, t be kinda close | |
Hittin you up with some real t, feel this | |
Buckshot | |
Buck spread love like the Pope, but I never spread false hope | |
I bring the bomb squad close, rock you with a dose | |
of TNT, z ain' t believe in me? | |
I' m comin back for all them z who be thievin me | |
I' m incredible, also edible | |
Rock it in the stage show, see me in the interview | |
Wanna be worldwide, but you can' t with I | |
You try, you die don' t deny the fact that you got your back | |
blown by binoculars, the way I' m rockin ya | |
and droptoppin ya, dough low go for dolo in Cali | |
All my Outlawz form a rally and we _Bomb First_ | |
Pull the trigga, see what happen if you hestitate | |
and cut yoour blood supply short | |
The bloodsport, the mother onslaught | |
CHORUS: Busta Rhymes | |
Yo, now in the onslaught, y' all z got caught | |
Now we can run a full court all in a bloodsport | |
And while we hold the fort, cut ya like live shorts | |
Feel the pressure burn a like a Newport! | |
Buckshot | |
Comin for you | |
I used to sit back, and let a lot of t | |
get to my head, wanted to dead a lot of t | |
A lot of fake z, frontin in the game with | |
a little record deal but still drive the same whip | |
Damn shame ain' t it? The vision that they show you | |
in they videos' ll make you think them z moved out the ghetto | |
Oh? Don' t get me wrong, I ain' t tryin to stay | |
But t, at the same time I ain' t tryin to run away | |
A lot of family is left behind | |
A lot of my z is left to grind, some still do crime | |
Some do time, but, no matter what | |
None of my z keep an empty shell inside the nine | |
back, up the Evil Dee track and make the mind react | |
Smoke a phat one listen to Buck and get black | |
As a matter of fact | |
Even if you don' t smoke you can feel the contact | |
CHORUS | |
Buckshot | |
Comin for you | |
Jump through the window to your rescue I guess you | |
heard the rest do, all that rap t but in fact it | |
sounded kinda good until I let you hear this phat t | |
You lack t, track this | |
Record this, oh my lord this is the warnin sign for y' all | |
B. D. wann ball is you feelin me? Let me know somethin | |
And if you see me lookin sober, let me smoke somethin | |
Pump it up like D, film me like Spike Lee | |
Bodycount like IceT, do it nicely | |
Nice to see, that Buck.. shot .. rappin | |
it, I' ma make it happen | |
All my z stick to gunclappin, don' t change | |
From my street z up to my Starang | |
Bang bang , can you hang, ? | |
It' s your fault you got caught in the rain, | |
CHORUS |