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letra de the chop shop - the mekanix

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[intro: yukmouth]
yeah, my n-gga
we about to pick up that, uh, droptop aston martin thang i was telling you about my n-gga
you know what i mean, i had to give it to my n-ggas the mekanix first
to make sure my sh-t was real wet, you dig?
what you mean mane? don’t worry about that
where we at? huh?

[verse 1: yukmouth]
welcome to the motherf-ckin chop shop
i’m a beast, i’m a motherf-ckin sasquatch
i’m in the kitchen, and them pots hot
got the whole traphouse smoky like a hotbox
it’s marinatin like a crockpot
v-12, stepping on them squares like hopscotch
hit the corner in that aston, drop top
hit em with them birds man, make the f-ckin block hot
i’m a lockwood gardens n-gga
quarterbacking gun slinger, brett favre on n-ggas
in the kitchen i’m a chef, raekwon on n-ggas
i son your boys like a father figure
mobsta n-gga!
godzilla spit fire and stomp sh-t
i’m ox on the ground with the chop, who wanna run b-tch?
airholes, nose longer than hump’s sh-t
i’m filthy rich, but i still die for this funk sh-t
[interlude: rose ella]
we’d like to welcome y’all to the chop shop
on behalf of the mekanix
kenny tweed and 4rax
we’d like to thank all y’all punk asses slide through
zoo entertainment, b-tches
nolan park n-ggas
livewire
you know the mekanix, they gon give it to em

[verse 2: laroo]
career criminal, firearms invisible
top is invisible
see you at the munic-p-l
her frame low like an aston martin
a n-gga flipped football numbers and copped the aston martin
i’m up the coast, the work flow
we crossed clones and made mango kush, and sold the whole bush
blue diamonds, mac-11, and some credit cards
swipe your life like an atm, or play with lar’
got something sp-nky in a 18-wheeler
116 bands is what i need n-gga
move with me or around me, it’s your play
the hard hitter here yesterday, out today
meet me at the doc, slide off back to back
hunchback, move around these duffle bag
scale…hold it like a mobster
airsoft from the top
that new a martin, my n-gga, just copped
yeah
[interlude: rose ella]
these n-ggas say they mobbin
ain’t even got no car…screamin “gas!”
ain’t got no one betcho
show me what she do!
the mekanix
go get em boys

[verse 3: j. stalin]
i’m on the corner pushing cookies like a boy scout
tryna stack enough money to get my sh-t out
you know i upped the rims and blew the roof off
2 new compartments for the stroganoff
livewire, guess i gotta hold a n-gga off
see me floss, my n-gga, i stay in clean sh-t
sip a lil syrup, then i give that b-tch some lean d-ck
hotel on wheels, the boy’s got curtains!
girl, i know you want it, so we f-cking for certain
working that thing out like a surgeon
p-ssy so fat that it’s looking like a paw print
i f-cked her in the car at the parking lot at target
if a n-gga say i’m broke, he on that bullsh-t
i dump a full clip, then i go and run his main b-tch
if a n-gga say i’m broke, he on that bullsh-t
i dump a full clip, then i go and f-ck his main b-tch
[interlude: rose ella]
doing everything i love, it’s a wrap
east oakland, stand up
greasy black and white piano keys
spark plugs, spare tires, purple weed, silver patron
we got digital scales, 808 kickdrums
splash n-ggas!
candy wet paint
you ready for the ride of your life
you might wanna strap on your seatbelt too
nah, f-ck a seatbelt, we just ride
let the roof back
they back at it again
wrenches, turn em
what it run like?
the mekanix
steady screamin “gas!”
you ain’t even got no oil

[outro]
(sound of garage door closing)

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