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Drop ya thangs
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Letra actual de la canción
[Chorus] <br />Drop ya thangs and just box <br />Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box <br />Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box <br />Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box <br /> <br />[Verse One: JT] <br />Yo, I hit the party in my t-shirt and tennis shoes <br />They all watchin in they Hot Boys and church suits <br />Actin tough in the club ain´t gon´ get you home <br />Gettin drunk off of Patron just gon´ get you domed <br />Still steppin on my shoes, boy this nigga happy <br />This nigga thank he Lil´ Jon and his partner Scrappy <br />Goin dumb with his bitch so he don´t like me <br />This ain´t the South boy, we ain´t crunk we go hyphy <br />You gotta know the rules, player let it go <br />You get to trippin my nigga you gotta hit the do´ <br />Rollin up this eight-nine gram I´m tryin to make a plan <br />Tuggin on yo´ main bitch hand, tryin to make a friend <br />This time for escapade only make the tec a-spray <br />I´m in the parkin lot, standin by the Escalade <br />You got a problem we ain´t fightin like a man <br />One-on-one with the Fig´, get yo´ face in the sand, nigga <br /> <br />[Chorus] <br /> <br />[Hook: JT] <br />Nigga you a bitch wit´cho gun, snitch wit´cho gun <br />Still get found in a ditch wit´cho gun <br />Bitch wit´cho gun, snitch wit´cho gun <br />Still get found in a ditch wit´cho gun <br /> <br />[Verse Two: JT] <br />Yo, Fig´ never play with them guns, no you hear me <br />Fig´ ain´t shot nuttin up but kill spirits <br />Fig´ ain´t the one to be, scared of the losses <br />One-on-one fightin for stripes with right crosses <br />Uppercuts and heatbutts to get a head rush <br />Bitch niggaz rather kick back, and let they lead bust <br />I been a pitbull since Fila {?} and Kenny Ken <br />Used to chuck ´em by the corner sto´ whoever win <br />Them was my O.G.´s, and I was just a B.G. <br />Whoever want to see me, Figgaro can {?} <br />But now we got them old niggaz that bust with they tommy <br />But caught without they tommy get rushed like salami <br />Cause everybody tired of them R.I.P.´s <br />We ´bout to bring this fightin back mayne to all our streets <br />Now, cowards wanna pack and, killers wanna cruise and <br />Real niggaz stand alone mayne and do what we do <br />I wanna bust you but homey let me ask you <br />Why you wanna play with that gun, and make me blast you <br />Moms all cryin and shit, she gotta ask you <br />{?} better to save on caskets you dumb nigga <br /> <br />[Chorus + Hook] <br /> <br />[Verse Three: JT] <br />Oh boy! Old friends like to make up and get cavi <br />Hell nah, she in the club wit´cho baby daddy <br />She got the coat on he bought you for yo´ birthday (oh no!) <br />You kickin back, I´m ´bout to clown him in the worst way (bitch) <br />Team on preem´ like he hangin out with ´Pac brother <br />And you a boss for not cuttin him with the boxcutter <br />And it was cool ´til this chick really got to trippin <br />Spittin drink in yo´ face, boy she popped up pimpin (what?) <br />Zoked out like, fat boy you can´t breathe <br />Bounce back and grab that trick by her fuckin weave <br />Bring her to the flo´, teach her ´bout the Get Low <br />She gon´ really know, mob her on the danceflo´ <br /> <br />[Chorus + Hook] <br /> <br />[JT] <br />Yeah I gotta acknowledge them fo´ carloads of HP niggaz <br />that came to Fillmoe for y´all one-on-ones mayne, and y´all got it mayne <br />Niggaz put the guns down and after that nigga it was real big <br />They get stripes for that, nigga, special shoutout nigga <br />to them three young Sunnydale niggaz <br />Nigga that was surrounded by ten Fillmoe niggaz mayne <br />And all y´all wanted was one-on-ones and y´all got it nigga <br />Stripes for that! <br /> <br />[Chorus + Hook]
Letra nueva de la canción
[Chorus] <br />Drop ya thangs and just box <br />Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box <br />Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box <br />Nigga just drop ya thangs and just box <br /> <br />[Verse One: JT] <br />Yo, I hit the party in my t-shirt and tennis shoes <br />They all watchin in they Hot Boys and church suits <br />Actin tough in the club ain´t gon´ get you home <br />Gettin drunk off of Patron just gon´ get you domed <br />Still steppin on my shoes, boy this nigga happy <br />This nigga thank he Lil´ Jon and his partner Scrappy <br />Goin dumb with his bitch so he don´t like me <br />This ain´t the South boy, we ain´t crunk we go hyphy <br />You gotta know the rules, player let it go <br />You get to trippin my nigga you gotta hit the do´ <br />Rollin up this eight-nine gram I´m tryin to make a plan <br />Tuggin on yo´ main bitch hand, tryin to make a friend <br />This time for escapade only make the tec a-spray <br />I´m in the parkin lot, standin by the Escalade <br />You got a problem we ain´t fightin like a man <br />One-on-one with the Fig´, get yo´ face in the sand, nigga <br /> <br />[Chorus] <br /> <br />[Hook: JT] <br />Nigga you a bitch wit´cho gun, snitch wit´cho gun <br />Still get found in a ditch wit´cho gun <br />Bitch wit´cho gun, snitch wit´cho gun <br />Still get found in a ditch wit´cho gun <br /> <br />[Verse Two: JT] <br />Yo, Fig´ never play with them guns, no you hear me <br />Fig´ ain´t shot nuttin up but kill spirits <br />Fig´ ain´t the one to be, scared of the losses <br />One-on-one fightin for stripes with right crosses <br />Uppercuts and heatbutts to get a head rush <br />Bitch niggaz rather kick back, and let they lead bust <br />I been a pitbull since Fila {?} and Kenny Ken <br />Used to chuck ´em by the corner sto´ whoever win <br />Them was my O.G.´s, and I was just a B.G. <br />Whoever want to see me, Figgaro can {?} <br />But now we got them old niggaz that bust with they tommy <br />But caught without they tommy get rushed like salami <br />Cause everybody tired of them R.I.P.´s <br />We ´bout to bring this fightin back mayne to all our streets <br />Now, cowards wanna pack and, killers wanna cruise and <br />Real niggaz stand alone mayne and do what we do <br />I wanna bust you but homey let me ask you <br />Why you wanna play with that gun, and make me blast you <br />Moms all cryin and shit, she gotta ask you <br />{?} better to save on caskets you dumb nigga <br /> <br />[Chorus + Hook] <br /> <br />[Verse Three: JT] <br />Oh boy! Old friends like to make up and get cavi <br />Hell nah, she in the club wit´cho baby daddy <br />She got the coat on he bought you for yo´ birthday (oh no!) <br />You kickin back, I´m ´bout to clown him in the worst way (bitch) <br />Team on preem´ like he hangin out with ´Pac brother <br />And you a boss for not cuttin him with the boxcutter <br />And it was cool ´til this chick really got to trippin <br />Spittin drink in yo´ face, boy she popped up pimpin (what?) <br />Zoked out like, fat boy you can´t breathe <br />Bounce back and grab that trick by her fuckin weave <br />Bring her to the flo´, teach her ´bout the Get Low <br />She gon´ really know, mob her on the danceflo´ <br /> <br />[Chorus + Hook] <br /> <br />[JT] <br />Yeah I gotta acknowledge them fo´ carloads of HP niggaz <br />that came to Fillmoe for y´all one-on-ones mayne, and y´all got it mayne <br />Niggaz put the guns down and after that nigga it was real big <br />They get stripes for that, nigga, special shoutout nigga <br />to them three young Sunnydale niggaz <br />Nigga that was surrounded by ten Fillmoe niggaz mayne <br />And all y´all wanted was one-on-ones and y´all got it nigga <br />Stripes for that! <br /> <br />[Chorus + Hook]
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