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j. stalin - h.n.i.c. كلمات الأغنية

[intro]
the mekanix…

[hook: j stalin]
i’m in the hood pitchin’ rocks out my front yard
i’m on the block gettin’ guap on the boulevard
while you b-tch n-gg-s actin’ like broads
i’m h-n-i-c the head n-gg- in charge
[verse 1: j stalin]
get guap, never hate, never perpetrate
never listen to what them suckas say, them n-gg-s h-lla fake
i put the word out, n-gg-s get eliminated
young stalin done made it, they d-mn sure hate it
i used to be broke so i guess i updated
flirted with the turf, moved h-lla worth
purple for dessert, smokin’ in arizona
no matter where ever i’m at i’m hanging on the corner
lookin’ around, checkin’ everybody gear
like yup, i’m the freshest n-gg- over here (over here)
trailing the money like a stock broker
cause when it comes to the c-ke i’m a share holder
jesus on my shoulder, one nation under him
f-ck with young stalin, n-gg- i’ll smother them
livewire hold the west up like a safety pin
stalin, shady and jay jonah the fire man

[verse 2: messy marv]
the bag weigh a gram, the zip twenty nine
this sh-t gonna sell and these n-gg- gonna buy
they sixteen in l.a. tweny four in chicago
i’m up and down the interstate, indo with the rallo
thirty round d-ck in my sh-t with the hollow
i jump out strapped n-gg- every where that i go
it’s always a drought around cinco de mayo
but blood still got ’em for the seventeen five though
i dry cook, i don’t put it in the pot
i put it in the microwave and watch it rise to the top (ding!)
hit it with the ice and make one big cookie
i got the jackie-o if you n-gg-s want the nookie
the zip come hard, i don’t sell my soft
and you ain’t gotta f-ck with me, i’m a get mine all
ice cream, seven hundred a pop
add two more dollars if i gotta make the drop, f-ck wit me

[verse 3: j stalin]
i got cream for the fiends on the dope spot
rubber band knots, from the c-ke white
if i don’t hustle all day then i don’t sleep right
livewire go, make sure a n-gg- money right
plus my whip tight, i’m a hustler
you third string, that means you workin’ for the customer
n-gg- i blow more smoke than a m-ffler
catch you outta pocket i’ll be knockin’ at your jugular
home of the brave, more game than a arcade
work on the turf, got b-tches on a blade
fittin to stack my money up buy me a dropped escalade
two thousand and eight benz painted cherry kool-aid
with this snow i’m great, sh-t i know why they hate
cause i’m famous in the hood like a philly cheese steak
and i leave california whenever i take a break
plus i take my scale so i know what i make

- j stalin

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