Letra de canción descargada de: https://www.albumcancionyletra.com ------------------------------------------ Shyne - Godfather ------------------------------------------ Uh huh, Uh huh, Brooklyn Vietnam What you, Uh yeah, Uh, Come on Oh no, big Shyne Po Back up in the motherfuckin heezy for sheezy Gimme a tech that donīt jam (bang bang) Iīm tryin to jucks some more grams and work this whole thing My minds poisoned, corrupted and diseased 360 kiīs Money make the world spin I make your chest smoke Have your mother singing hymms Particles of your brains up on your tims Kiss you before I twist you 170 miles Headed for disaster faster I put it down right Bustin off these rounds like Real niggaz is kings You ainīt rockinī that crown right Harder more PK watches Topless, bitches in cars Only meals could heal my scars [Chorus] Niggaz wanna rhyme like shine like me They supposed to Niggaz wanna bust their guns like me They supposed to Niggaz wanna grind like crime like me They supposed to Niggaz wanna mash like me, dash like me [Repeat] Allegations got me pacinī Grand jury wouldnīt understand my fury For fast cars and jewelry I could give a fuck if thereīs a heaven for a G This is heaven for me Go to trial never plea Do a bullet and come home to the throne I donīt rhyme, I just talk about this life thatīs mine Iīve seen niggaz die, in front of my eyes Doinī my filth Niggaz is expiring like milk Different strokes for different folks Just give me, different coke in different boats Black Aristotle Onassis All I see is crack addicts and automatics You rap niggaz is faggots Yīall cannot be serious Iīm in coupes with gucci interiors Airinī out your areas Tech nines, two in the flex and shit Lookinī at myself like Yo, Iīm the best in this [Chorus x2] Sometimes I really wonder Whatīs it all about? How many bitches can I fuck until I get out How many kiīs can I cut, guns can I bust Wigs can I push, spots can I juck Every single one, cuz Iīm a fuckinī savage Til Iīm cremated, most hated, self made Blood type G All these young hustlers wanna bubble like me They supposed to Sippin on syrup, until I perish Pickinī bitches off the run-way Look forward to, gun-play Go to sleep with one eye shut Wake up and do the same shit I ainīt never gonna change bitch And thatīs the cycle I donīt wanna be like Michael More like Darrell Porter Gettinī shipments at the border Yeah, itīs a wrappity wrap [Chorus x4]