Letra de canción descargada de: https://www.albumcancionyletra.com ------------------------------------------ Shyne - The gang ------------------------------------------ [Shyne] Uh huh [Foxy Brown] Uh [Shyne] Lets get it clear (Uh huh) Brooklyn Vietnam (Thatīs right) [Foxy Brown] Yo yo... Live from the seven-one-eight yīall; Murder City [Shyne] Lay down nigga (Itīs the Ill Na Na) Cut ya dick off put it in ya mouth yīall understand? (Letīs go) [1st Verse (Shyne)] Ride with me as I race through ya hood Give me a fifth thatīll bang and a jury thatīll hang Pants sagginī in that Bentley wagon Ayo thatīs my nigga Yacht if the mink is sagginī Since a youth I flipped, on some ruthless shit Had a thing for rings, bling, Coupes and shit Someī bout watchinī Montana come up outta Havana And rule this world made me wanna grab my hammer Fuckinī with the Cheddar Boys Some hustler flip girls instead of boys Keep filthy laweys, for when the FEDs annoy us We keep this shit gangsta nigga from verse to chorus And the Street Lords and Truly Yours Drive Modena Spiders and big exhaust Bleed for the streets love the war My nose bleeds for weeks I love the raw Puncture niggaz when I comfort niggaz Motor City to Brooklyn Veitnam Nigga itīs on till my flesh is gone And even then I live on in gangsta form [Chorus] What you know about that? Macs and cash nigga how you love that? What you know about that? Doinī it up livinī it up, nigga what? What you know about that? The gully kid put it in your skully kid, bleed nigga what it is What you know about that? Yacht, Cheddar Boys, Streets Lords, truly yours [2nd Verse (Foxy Brown)] Itīs the "Godfather Buried Alive" Ayo Po itīs the Ill Na Na stuntinī in 5.0 Went to Brooklyn with the Rugers out In Flatbush and I keeps the Kiki poppinī off when the goons is out Yall got a muthafuckin problem when my dude get out Dutty Ay bust a shot for Shyne get the Guiness Stout Thats my word I got the Berken pulled over up on Parkside & Nostrond In the butter scotch Rover Iīm ah bad gal style like Iīm īposta Got his comrades in Clinton bustinī nuts on my poster Phone check! Muthafucka hit the yard up Comm stop Mid-State Brooklyn niggaz squad up Iīm hot steppin in the pink staline seven Iīma stunt till BIG tell me thereīs a ghetto up in heaven See through niggaz take they time like a man We donīt snitch we donīt sing on the stand but yīall donīt hear me though.. [Chorus] [3rd Verse (Shyne)] Money, cars, guns, hoes Sniff some blow and Iīm good to go Eagle inflated Federal Bureau Investigated Most hated nigga read the affidavit Uh racing loud pipes big fucking exhausts burning the turnpike My game so tight I arouse dikes You punk rappers should paying me publishing the way you write And be sampling my life, every line in your rhyme Sound like you wanna be Shyne, and I donīt blame ya Who wouldnīt? Young nigga catching charges Continental Ts parked in garages Menages, odds is Iīm the best spittinī it, nigga Iīm gettinī it I admit it I was watching New Jack City And fucking with ?Goodfellas? Uncle Paul got me dying to ball Every thing I talk about I live it All you hear these rappers rap about I really did it I was designed to hold nines, and grind Step out of line put you in that white line Rearrange ya brain ainīt nothin change You know the game jet planes and cocaine And what I say might be held against me I donīt wanna talk, Iīm the hottest nigga in New York [Chorus]