 |
| Mobb Deep Miscellaneous Drop A Gem On Em It's the infamous back in the house once again Livin the life that of diamonds and guns and now gems pulls gats like a basehead pulls on stems the Mobb got the bomb run out and tell a friend Drop A Gem On Em.. Verse One: Havoc Take a tire all these fake crooks need to retire they gotcha gassed takin back and snatch fire outcha maggot ass Havoc represent for the Q B C smoke that ass like a lucie..tho I need to quit fuck it, I love it like a cloud over the projects your game Im above it its combat, gats bangers and all that you'se a small cat, whatever you on get off that I mention, nuthin but the real shit presentin the hollow tip crew 41st side convention try for? you half-steppin like a fresh tec out of the box yo niggas I'm testin (There's no question) bitch ass have you confessin like a D-T left in state of depression you under pressure, intact no doubt catcher the snitch-snatcher tookin wit asthma you casper, you yell my name thats only givin me props plus the fans that you got, wonderin whats got you hot its too not, knocked out the box and got rocked got raped on the Island, you officially got kick that thug shit, Vibe magazine on some love shit (keep it real kid, you don't know who you fuckin wit) Chorus: repeat 2X It's the Infamous back in the house once again Livin the life that of diamonds and guns and now gems pull gats like a basehead pull on stems the Mobb got the bomb run out and tell a friend Drop A Gem On Em Verse Two: Prodigy Yeah likewise, Im tired of rap guys whose faggots pure shuteye, and swole up your whole outside I baptize, niggas get wet, put up your backside your claptized and set straight, put on your head straight watch out for, these upstate cats be leary of you yeddy niggas wit gats plus the walls on they backs Rikers Island flashback of the house you got scuffed it in you would think you gettin your head shot was enough but then Now you wanna got at my team, you must of been drunk when you wrote that shit too bad you had to did it to your own self my rebellion, I retaliate, I had the whole New York state aimin at your face at the gate, bottom line of top soon as you came through shot through, don't even know the half of my crew I got a hundred strong arm niggas ready to rock the shit clocks tick, your days are numbered in low digits you look suspicious, suspect niggas is bitches get chppoed up, Grade A meat, somethin delicious and laced back up, 2 G's, one for stitches then reconstruct your face and learn how to speak again my Mobb's like a bunch of wild Puerto Ricans wit bangers the size of African spears it's warfare in the arena, you turn arenas into house of horrors its terrodome, when you see my click you need to run behind shit you gotta gat you betta find it and use that shit think fast and get reminded of robberies in Manhattan you knew what happened 60 g's and one for gun clappin Who Shot Ya? You'd probably scream louder than an opera New York gotcha, now you wanna use my mob as a crutch what makes you think you cant get bucked again Once again, back in the house once again live the life that of diamonds and guns and now gems pull gats like a basehead pull on stems the Mobb got the bomb run out and tell a friend It's the Infamous.. |
Videos
|
Add
All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes only.
Copyright © 2007-2009 LyricWorld.com, LoiNhac.com
© 2009 lyricworld.com, loinhac.com are two of a family of companies in the LmVN Group.