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letra de terrorist in da city - husalah & b-luv

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[intro: husalah]
yeah, yeah, n-gga
turn the zapp up
cilantro, let’s do it my n-gga, let’s ride out man
you feel me, that’s all we doin’ man
the mini baby

[verse 1: husalah]
jelly belly, lime green with the red top
that’s lime and coca-cola, ’73 caprice drop
stupid knock, dumb knock, chip whose to shot
disney land, ferris wheels, dumb mollywhop
pull up slowly, and all the boppers on me
then i ride off fastin’ and i start to yogi
everything seem fun in my ’71
i pushed the petal in every whip that chevy done
from the ’77 to the ’79 brandy whine
to the ’88 monte s-sloppy fresh
i mean overdoin’ custom sh-t, stupid nasty
i got work for doin’ a half a mill p-ssing
he cut me loose, every stainless steering wheel is fancy
“do you mind if i take a digital for my wife nancy?”
then the top came down and i dipped off
the whole time i had the mini and a brick of soft
oh, you love the whip, man
mollywhop, man
four on six music, man
yeah, 2007, b-tch

[hook: the jacka]
there it is and i see your deen
there it is and i see your deen
these n-ggas mad ’cause i might nab they ho
these n-ggas mad ’cause we pullin’ up on 4’s
real n-ggas love this song
i know ’cause every ill whip got it on
that n-gga hus is gone
but he’ll be back, so it’s a must we carry on

[verse 2: b-luv]
i live up to the name
i really ride tonka, tuck your chick
before she see me, ’cause i might walk up
it’s b-luv, i put my t in the air
you look stupid in the dictionary, my n-ggas is there
we dumb, we here, cuddie, we really don’t care
hundred thizz n-ggas with us, we ain’t goin’ no where
bet a gig on your wig, stop traffic on the freeway
we r-t-rded, don’t listen to what you say
my rims is twenty-six, they older than me
got no option but to do it big, my cuddie lookin’ over me
your chick all over me, but i don’t chase hoes
i come through, tonka boy, i’m already chose
whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
that’s ridiculous
that’s what they say when me and young hus slide through
we don’t give a sh-t, n-gga, ’cause we some d-mn fools

[verse 3: the jacka]
the world cold
you need our help
guns, dope & religion leanin’ on a delt
the paint drip and i’m sippin’ on a four of lean
i got my hoes doin’ sh-t you ain’t ever seen
i let the whole album slam, boy, that sh-t clean
so don’t remove the king
it was straight
i’m tryna’ get high and drunk though i’m feelin’ great
i make millions, boy, i don’t do real estate
i’m from the realest state
b-luv & hus sittin’ up like tonka trucks
i’m in sp-ce, bring me down ‘soon as we touch
i come back with a sound that’s ill as f-ck
i know ’cause real n-ggas give it up
when they see they say “you ill, n-gga, keep it up”
i keep in touch with the n-ggas i got love for
them n-ggas thugs though
tonka boyz, we covered in w-lly wonka boy
(n-gga, you know what i’m sayin’)

[hook: the jacka]
there it is and i see your deen
there it is and i see your deen
these n-ggas mad ’cause i might nab they ho
these n-ggas mad ’cause we pullin’ up on 4’s
real n-ggas love this song
i know ’cause every ill whip got it on
that n-gga hus is gone
but he’ll be back, so it’s a must we carry on

[outro: the jacka]
check it out n-gga
it’s the mothaf-ckin’ jack boy
you know what i’m sayin’
my n-ggs though
tonka boyz mayne, b-luv & the hus boy
you know what i’m sayin’
you n-ggas, you n-ggas 5’8, 5’9 n-gga
you needa bring a trampoline or a lil laddar or somethin’ to get in the whip with us boy
yeah, ’cause we sittin’ way up b-tch

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