8Ball — America
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America 8Ball04:28
Текст песни: America
America Lyrics[Intro] It's goddamn insane when a grown-ass man complain about the pain that he had to maintain when all he got to do was use his brain and make a change That's goddamn insane [Verse 1] I'm a serial killer, spittin' murder words Man, I was hard 'fore you niggas even heard of 'verts I been runnin' with some hungry niggas out the wind Ran through hell and I'm ready to go back again Mic in my hand, I'm not Afro or African If anything, I'm an American nigga hustlin' Dogs in the yard, and my jewelry got plenty rocks Always loved B.I.G. and motherfuckin' 2Pac Keep it in the hood, keep it hood, call me Robin Hood Except I got a .45 when I'm tippin', grippin' wood I'm not a killer, I don't think I'm some ol' bad nigga But when I'm with you I do keep my finger on the trigger Niggas be snitchin' then go talk about it with their bitches Can't walk in public 'cause they scared them boys come and get them I can't do nothin' for 'em, can't do nothin' but ignore 'em When they get him, he gon' wish he wasn't fuckin' born [Hook] x4 America - Home of the free, land of the brave That made every nigga like me [Verse 2] Wake it up, sleep for the weak and the broke, nigga Sun here shine like he live up on the coast, nigga Raw when I spit it, take a minute 'for you really get it Straight gutter lyrics like my motherfuckin' mouth shitted I learned from niggas, used to watch 'em now I'm livin' like 'em Rich or poor, it's a bitch, try'na break the cycle My pops was in the streets so naturally I'm in the streets Watchin' how the hustlers dress and how them pimps speak I took a page from the book and wrote my own laws No cut, straight dope, cooked up by 8-ball Now they call me 8Ball, fat boy, tight flow [?] a little kid, he kinda good like a tight hoe Hard top, black tint, whole car bulletproof The body, the windows, the tires and the rims too Hennessey and weed, I'm a fiend for the good dro 8Ball, fat boy, momma call me Premro [Hook] x4 America - Home of the free, land of the brave That made every niggaa like me [Verse 3] I come from Memphis, Tennessee, whether you know it or not The city where Martin Luther King got shot My folks picked cotton, got no education Fought and made it easier for my generation And how we pay 'em back, we kill our own kind Murder innocent niggas who grind for they little shine Go and do the time, come back home like it's all fine But all that weed and all that drink keep fuckin' with yo mind Somebody look away and you be like a Pitt scratchin' Ready to pull somethin' out and get to click clackin' And you don't know that's what they want you to do It's a trap, made to catch up niggas like me and you It's a shame all the petty shit, for bread we'll do Send your soul straight to hell, try'na keep up with your crew My word's true, and I ain't never gon' front I'm a field nigga, momma didn't raise no punk [Hook] x4 America - Home of the free, land of the brave That made every nigga like me
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