paroles E-40 Too Short

E-40 - Too Short Lyrics & Traduction

What, you thought I wasn’t what I was?
R.I.P. to Nate Dogg
You know I ain’t comin’ out to the West Coast
Without fuckin’ with the gods
Rest in peace, ‘Pac

[Young Jeezy]
R.I.P it’s the remix, killer
Mike Jack was alive, I’d remix Thriller
Trap star, bitch, spell it with a big T
Give a damn if I never be a hot MC
Cause I’m a hood nigga, first on everybody’s list
Buy the whole club P, don’t fuck with no Cris
That average ass watch can’t fuck with my wrist
Them average ass hoes can’t fuck with my bitch
To the window, to the motherfuckin’ wall
Enough money in my jeans to buy a motherfuckin’ mall
Got the choppas in the back, bulletproof, that’s my Hummer
R.I.P. to the competition, this is my summer

[Young Jeezy]
R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P.
R.I.P. we just killed the club
Took Patron to the head, almost killed a thug
R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P.
R.I.P. we just killed the club
Took Patron to the head, almost killed a thug

[Snoop]
Fella in the club finna do thangs
Snoop Deezy, Jeezy and 2 Chainz
Neck full of cables, no security
Ten dimes and they all at my table
Smokin’ on… sippin’ on Cirizoc
Bottom to the tizop, al these hoes ezay
Eastside LBC with a “G” on it
R.I.P., R.I.P – with a “C” on it

[Too Short]
You can dream, but you ain’t doin’ nothin’ tonight
You ain’t about this life? Well, fuck your type
If your broke ass got one day at the top
You’d be so shocked, you’d drop dead on the spot
You’d better keep flippin’ them burgers, and ask yourself
Who’s the boss and who’s the worker?
I’m the T-double-O, don’t need no hoe
But tonight, I’m about to knock me some more

[Young Jeezy]
R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P.
R.I.P. we just killed the club
Took Patron to the head, almost killed a thug
R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P.
R.I.P. we just killed the club
Took Patron to the head, almost killed a thug

[E-40]
Hoe, I’ve got more gigs than a terabyte
I dance like a D-boy (dance like a D-boy)
Don’t get along with the Elroys
There’s yankin’ up in this thang, we poppin’ bottles
Give me a thick thang, I don’t want a model
She sippin’ Hurricanes, motherfuck Moscato
She wanna give me brains, in my Tahoe
I could talk a monkey off a banana tree
(Tryna get to you) …got a degree in Mackology
Scorpio (what is it?) that’s my astrology
I get ‘em to give me head like neurology

[Young Jeezy]
R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P.
R.I.P. we just killed the club
Took Patron to the head, almost killed a thug
R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P.
R.I.P. we just killed the club
Took Patron to the head, almost killed a thug

R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P., R.I.P.
R.I.P. we just killed the club
Took Patron to the head, almost killed a thug


Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)