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letra de bad boyz - shyne

[shyne]
now tell me: who want to f-ck with us?
ashes to ashes, dust to dust!
i bang
and let your f-ckin’ brains hang!
snitches
f-ck all them able b-tches
with riches
who carry 22’s up in they hosiery
a black teller when my father bust and unloaded me thinks he
just finished sniffin a ki
and dippin the d’s
don’t hate me — hate nicky barnes
for hittin my moms
and letting the condom pop!
n-gg-, i was born in the drop!
coke boil in the pot
shake the feds and bust shots at them street cops
f-ck yo’ poitnahs (partners)!
my point is
double fours at your f-ckin jaws, pointed!
hollow point sh-t —
four-point-six!
need i say more, or do you get the point, b-tch?
c’mon

what type of n-gg- slang and bang in the streets? (bad boyz)
what type of n-gg- stay in the trump for weeks? (bad boyz)
what type of n-gg- fly bentley coupes? (bad boyz)
aim for the sky, cop the sh-t then shoot ..

[shyne]
minks draggin on the floor
bangin on your wh-r-
suckin the croissant just examine it for flaws
pour the cristal on the way to trial
rico law got a n-gg- head hurtin,
squirtin til they pull the curtain
let the money drip dry
hundred dollar bills wipe the tears from my eyes, no love
f-ck y’all n-gg-z! hope you die a slow death
as i c-ke-test
and see the lawyers talk of protest!
can’t f-ck with you weak rap n-gg-z witcha gay raps
runnin ’round talkin this and talkin that
see me in the streets tried to give me dap
andrew cunanan -ss n-gg-z!
my two cannons blast n-gg-z, -ss n-gg-z!
got me f-cked up in the game, get your shirt stained
keep your five mics n-gg-, give me the ‘caine
do the sh-t to clean my money dummies
gleam the wrist out
cop the pist-al
n-gg-, talk sh-t now!
uh

[shyne]
bling bling
it’s a bad boy thing
bullets heat-seekin
streep sweepin
with an evil grin, i watch you die
one love, one life, one shyne!
y’all n-gg-z ain’t sayin nothin, like a mime
every line, i live it, i write it
with a pencil so n-gg-z die of lead poison if they bite it
hate it but recite it!
it’s a g thang, me and puff in st. bart’s set it off
b-tches walkin topless with g-strings — menage!
bust shots at your crew — another charge!
as the gulf stream fly through the fog, i’ll make ya popular
pockets filled with more high notes than the opera
franklins on top of the – jacksons
my n-gg- ty leave you tired!!
bad boy — respect it or die, coward!

[barrington levy chatting patois to fade]

- shyne

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