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Song title:
Popa Wu - How It Goes
Edit By:
216.73.216.51
[intro: la the darkman] Yo, yo, yo (5x) Yeah, yeah, la the darkman 8th wonder, top of the world, nigga Yeah, sing sing, peach playin ass niggas Killas, yeah Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh Uh huh, yeah [chorus: la the darkman] In these wild ghetto streets, this is how it goes Smoke la, pack guns, plot up in my foes And range rovs, rockin jewels, artica folds 2000, its still throw holes in clothes [la the darkman] You niggas lame, real game, recognize game Some get hed, my dick long, I get brain When I was broke, smoke weed on the train Now puff in the gs4, dead float like a plane Platinum watch and platinum chain Four pound plastic glock, how dogs get trained Jackets get stained, shirts get stained, jewels get stained By a murderer, squeazin the flame, screamin for fame Tombstones engrave ya name at ya funeral in rain Old folks say cracks the blame, while they act insane And pack the game, cock and aim, blow out ya brain Jump in the range, back to the grain, its wu-tang Aint shit change, but gettin rich, bitch to bitch Whips to switch, new outfits for new out hits Im raw like no condom, fuckin a whore On some real shit, takin ya faggots to war Back in s.o.s, how we smack on dress holds At the tunnel, givin buck 50 in bundles Its 2000, no more wowzin, no more browsin My killas blood thirsty outta project housing The body kid, shotty kids, red dotted kids My crew from bk, wild out like gotti kid Fuck guliani bids, and consequences Im hoppin fences, jumped them bences D.t.s missin in these trenches I wear all black, black gats Only thing white on me, dunn, is my teeth and my crack My moneys green, my weeds real green, my lex is green I wont wait, on a mic or a triple beam My heart like spike lee tell me do the right thing Nowaday that mean pullin the thing to take cream Pussy, Im real, from bronxville to brownsville Queens, to manhattan, l.i. back to staten I murder you... [chorus 2x] [la the darkman] For the new millenium, I wanna be pushin a new millenium With bricks in the stash, for safety, about ten of them My bitches mad femenime, suckin dick like kim and em Take em to the condo, constantly bended them Im rusty, for faggot niggas that wanna bust me Trust me, I only run with wolves, you cant touch me Plus me, knowledge I got, just cant explain Street value, worth 50 pounds of cocaine I reign like a bullet comin from john wayne Black male, society failed to obtain I got big balls, big brains, big trucks, big chains My wounds paint a picture, the cassettes the frame Im iller than one nigga tryin to rob a whole train Look at america thru the eyes of saddam hussein If a slut wanna fuck, me and my niggas, werent trainin Its 2000, but in the hood, shits the same, nigga [chorus 2x] [outro: la the darkman] Trapacanti, the streets for real Trapacanti, trapacanti La trapacanti
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