Stroke of Death
作词 : Dennis Coles/Robert Diggs
作曲 : Dennis Coles/Robert Diggs
Yeah, Soloman marked for life, a million to life
Thug for life, forever eyein' the kid'89 stick-up kid,
King of New
YorkRegulation party, daddy hard body
Rowdy Brighton
God-bodySmooth like a leather bop, '83 hip-hop
Top of the world, get it rizzight big to your wizzife
Murder cats for the right prizzice
Four-hundred and fifty-six on the dizzice
This is real lizzife, ain't nothin' sweet
GodSit down and think it through
God, God'Cuz comin' all outta ya face'll get ya clap,
GodYou are now listening to the sounds of
Supreme Clientele
Step in to the party, it's me
God Almighty,
Ghost still holdin' that shotty
Dustin Alize', three-quarter
Timbs, Terry-cloth robes
Crisp hundreds in the envelope, duke it on the globe
Thank God for my
Wallabee shoes, they done saved me
Up three-nothin' and
Salt Lake
CityBurgundy minks, whips with sinks in 'em
Brocolli blown, illa disease breath, elephant skin
Meet the black
Boy George, dusted on my honeymoon
***** like my wife, she popped my
Ghostface balloon
*****es think that
I'm Dominican, slap-hash
IndianMilk on my mustache, drop to my chiny-chin
Dive into dangerous parts, buildin' with thirsty mammals
White man scream, "Swim Starks sharks"
Smack the girl, bailbonds man stripped of eighteen bronz man
Tall like
Carl Malone "Mailman", framed on
Larry Johnson
Tony Montana blow, creamy white
Havana Joe's
Old Suzanna hoe, ***** sweet, banana flow
David Banner, gamma ray shots, beast will marinate
Bones splitted fatal
Wu swords, sour amputate
Duck Savanna wait, we splashed the glass, ice rocks
Our cash high right stock, our logo's on your rice box
Plus your dice box, on the side upon your white socks
Bobby got the mic cocked, buck, buck, nice shot
Stroke of DeathLRC歌词
作词 : Dennis Coles/Robert Diggs
作曲 : Dennis Coles/Robert Diggs
Yeah, Soloman marked for life, a million to life
Thug for life, forever eyein' the kid'89 stick-up kid,
King of New
YorkRegulation party, daddy hard body
Rowdy Brighton
God-bodySmooth like a leather bop, '83 hip-hop
Top of the world, get it rizzight big to your wizzife
Murder cats for the right prizzice
Four-hundred and fifty-six on the dizzice
This is real lizzife, ain't nothin' sweet
GodSit down and think it through
God, God'Cuz comin' all outta ya face'll get ya clap,
GodYou are now listening to the sounds of
Supreme Clientele
Step in to the party, it's me
God Almighty,
Ghost still holdin' that shotty
Dustin Alize', three-quarter
Timbs, Terry-cloth robes
Crisp hundreds in the envelope, duke it on the globe
Thank God for my
Wallabee shoes, they done saved me
Up three-nothin' and
Salt Lake
CityBurgundy minks, whips with sinks in 'em
Brocolli blown, illa disease breath, elephant skin
Meet the black
Boy George, dusted on my honeymoon
***** like my wife, she popped my
Ghostface balloon
*****es think that
I'm Dominican, slap-hash
IndianMilk on my mustache, drop to my chiny-chin
Dive into dangerous parts, buildin' with thirsty mammals
White man scream, "Swim Starks sharks"
Smack the girl, bailbonds man stripped of eighteen bronz man
Tall like
Carl Malone "Mailman", framed on
Larry Johnson
Tony Montana blow, creamy white
Havana Joe's
Old Suzanna hoe, ***** sweet, banana flow
David Banner, gamma ray shots, beast will marinate
Bones splitted fatal
Wu swords, sour amputate
Duck Savanna wait, we splashed the glass, ice rocks
Our cash high right stock, our logo's on your rice box
Plus your dice box, on the side upon your white socks
Bobby got the mic cocked, buck, buck, nice shot
