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tom skeemask – snitchn bitches كلمات اغاني

snitchn b_tches lyrics
[intro]
like dis…
(no love fo’ em)
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em

[refrain]
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ ’em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ ’em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ ’em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ ’em
…these b_tches
no love fo’ ’em
[verse 1: tom skeemask]
i made them n_ggas stick ’em up, stick ’em up, fool, it’s time to lay ya down
b_tch the f_ckin’ scope is comin’ from the f_ckin’ underground
blast from the past was my f_ckin’ name with skeemask
n_ggas of destruction had to get that m_th_f_ckin’ last laugh
disrespect my pimpin’ i’m gonna have to catch ya with a mothaf_ckin’ slug
fool, you should know that was aimed at yo’ f_ckin’ mug
time to catch this n_gga slippin’ talkin’ all that weak sh_t
you got some ana’ on yo’ chest, bring it to the f_ckin’ streets
check out my nine, look at my ride, [?] mothaf_cka’ straight from the [?] line
do you know the f_ckin’ scope or should you know the f_ckin’ time?
you and yo’ momma’s talkin’ sh_t, both you b_tches finna get lynched
with me and my n_gga mackyle from the n.o.d. gangsta clique
‘zno got the fo’ty_fo’, tec got the nine millimeter, fool
[?] come and pick up the rest of the f_ckin’ crew
dawg, i’mma holla’ as i’m chiefin’ on a f_ckin’ blunt
put the b_tches in the trunk, ’cause there’s no love for them, punk
these b_tches

[refrain]
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
…these b_tches
no love fo’ em
[verse 2: ???]
oh, it’s so early one sat_rday morning, po_po’ breakin’ in my front door
my brand new nike air [?] tiptoe and pulls up and across my bedroom floor
so high, smoked out, runnin’, stumblin’ towards the front do’
i’m livin’ in dixie homes, got me blind from the second flo’
outside i hear that blue was lookin’ try to find me
when i hizzear one of the po_po’ five_oh’s speakin’ a’ mention a robbery
that al_al committed the night before, that busta’ musta’ slipped, put them [?] on
n_gga while stuck up that bizzle and kicked him off the bridge
[?] in the scenery, low profilin’ to my hideaway
i plotted me a scheme so me ‘n that b_tch must snitch that hoe done made my day
times pass, hollow_tip bullets look [?] ‘n the type of the forty_fo’s
i’m slingin’ out my [?], i’m slippin’ on a mask, no fingerprint gloves on
steppin’ and whippin’, this [?] ‘n a pistol, b_tch, i slip in through the window
so sl!ck i creep [?] sleep a rude awakening on that hizzoe
kinda like a_actin’ like a psycho, [?] b_tches make me clizzy quick
i pull the hammer, slammin’, ain’t no love for a sickenin’ b_tch

[refrain]
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches
no love fo’ em
…these b_tches
no love fo’ em
[verse 3: ???]
i gots no love for these b_tches, and i gots my reasons why
i had this b_tch who i thought was straight but set me up to die
well, my story goes like this, g: i had this b_tch that [?]
but my n_ggas was always sayin’ that she was droppin’ off the p_ssy
but my young, dumb ass was in love with this trick b_tch
and i never figured that a trick b_tch would ever put me in some f_cksh_t
(man, was that p_ssy fat?) “d_mn, so good,” i was thinkin’ with my d_ck head
but thinkin’ with my d_ck head got me f_cked up with the feds
that b_tch throw me out like a goin’_out_of_business sale
[?] in jail make a [?] bail, locked down in this f_ckin’ cell
i promise when i get out i’m gon’ murder that b_tch
hit the jug with the main l!ck [?] on my f_ckin’ sh_t, ca’nna put that b_tch in the ditch
white is the mask gripped up to the house with the grip on my fo’ty_fo’
kick down the do’, looks on the flo’, and guess who i saw with the hoe?
the captain of the feds, gettin’ head, this fo’ty_fo’ blowed ‘im
these b_tches, these snitchin’ b_tches, i got no love fo’ em

- tom skeemask

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