Текст, перевод и аккорды “Definition Of A Don”
- Yeah.. definition of a don Its like I gotta keep remindin you and remindin you Whos that nigga.. you heard the kid Fly was on the casket of all those who appose the squadus Its the motherfuckin don cartagena ya heard What? ! [chorus: remy martin] They wanna know why ya name is joey crack You a hustler, how they think you got the stacks? (uh) You stuck being in jacks on the blocks witcha paps (yeah) And the squad to hard niggaz gotta fall back (tell em) Damn papi, youre shit is icey now (uh-huh) In the bronx witcha benz rims pokin out (ten mil) You got the niggaz in the pen straight locin out But when the don is on nigga close ya mouth [fat joe] Yeah, yo You wouldnt understand my story of life I live Most niggaz that really know me got life as bids The trife as kids, this aint no scarface shit These niggaz really will kill you, your wife, and kids I walked through many blocks niggaz couldnt stand on Had shit locked before I had a glock to even put my hands on Before I had the dough to put my fams on Before I had rocks sealed in pink tops, tryna get a gram off A wild adolescent, raised by the street Mesmorized by the dealers and the places they eat And when they blazed the heat, I was the shorty to take the handoff Run upstairs, tryna sneak the gat past grandmoms This is how it should be done... my life... Is identical to none, son tryed to duplicate but I knew he was fake Cuz everytime I walked by he turned blue in the face Im like heavy on the leg when I pop All my change is like heavy on the weight when I cop Its just the way its done Niggaz tell me they respect the way I blaze them guns On hold it down for the bronx in the name of pun [chorus] [fat joe] Yeah uh, my name ring bells like a p.o. Put the pressure on a nigga like Im right atcha do With the muzzle out, nigga cant shoke with my dough Im at his mothers house Beat up his pops, put the pistol in his brothers mouth Wave bricks, whips... jerked a few coke and next play the strip With chrome knowin that they wont forget And on the weekends we shut down clubs You know them crazy peurto ricans always fuckin it up! If I cant afford it, ima extort it If I cant cut it, ima bake it Strip you niggaz butt-naked, Im a thoroughbred Carry guns and pump heroin Never went o.t. Im too light for maryland Id rather play the streets of new york Where the fiends are guarunteed to keep the meat on my fork Im just a hustler - feds put the tap On our phones in hopes of cuffin us Then wonder why we livin life so illustrious [chorus] repeat 2x
Поделитесь с друзьями:
Поделитесь с друзьями: