M.O.P. - Pounds Up Şarkı Sözleri

M.O.P. şarkıcısının popüler şarkılarından Pounds Up şarkısının sözlerini sizlerle paylaşıyoruz. M.O.P. - Pounds Up Şarkı Sözleri sitemize 1 Kasım 2014 Cumartesi tarihinde admin tarafından eklenmiştir.

M.O.P. - Pounds Up Şarkı Sözleri

Ooh.. yeah..
Come on! Ooh..
Yeah.. yeah..
Yeah..


Why y'all niggas is sis' to fuck with Lil' Fame
I analyze the streets, spit real game
I'll blast on you as you pass on through
Catch you right where you stand put your ass on you
I remind niggas with that blue steel that you rip
And the rush that you felt from the nigga that you hit, now
How many niggas wanna ride with me, collide with me
Be accesoires to homicide with me
Who I hang with, bang with, spit flames with
The hand full of niggas that I came with
I ain't tripping, I know you got a hell of a plan
For the man if you ever caught me slipping
You will stop me, won't you, pop me, won't you
But you know I'll whoop ya motherfucking ass bitch, don't you
My family strong, your mams don't need so stop breathing Before you cats and you ass get deleted


Look, ain't nobody stoppin' this here
You'll see it, it's on and poppin' this year
Mound up (Mound up!) Pounds up! (Pounds up!)
We build this foundation, from the ground up nigga


Stand up faggot, I'll let you have it where you post at
(William Berckowicz!) Back with my golden fiend and Womack
(BLAOW!) Nigga hold that, Juliani can't control that
(We buss outta clutches on Magnum triggers) He know that
With the same cats that blaze DAT's on the boulevard
We remain strapped, then came back, doin' it hard
So send your soldiers cobra and I will send everyone of 'em back
With holes under they' hat, falls of through they' back
Damn with it motherfucker (BK!) All day real with it motherfucker
I'm not your average, I'm from a block where they trap cops
And made 'em holler ten-thirteen
It's the commander, Danze, hands, down
You need to know who you fucking with now
Now kill-a-kill again, with an unusual will to win
An unusual will to sin, stop fucking with me




It's an every day thing in a every day game
More day every day, motherfucker bang (BANG!)
It's the streets in me, and me, I'm staying tuned to this shit
It's music to my ears, I'm immune to this shit
I'm suffering, from a disease called 'Leave me the fuck alone In this full blown (blown), bitch,
M.O.P., prepare for the ruckus
And we murder-murder-ma-murder-murder you motherfuckers


Allow me the way out, down out, pull my gun out,
Run out in the middle of a street light (Bum, bum bum)
Ah, there you go, bastard, murder international, custom main caskets
Now could any of you cocksuckers turn to me
The way this streetgame is going is concerning me
Whatever happened to the old days
We all blaze, we all study criminal ways



Nigga!
...
Nigga!

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