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Flowers by Lالقصائد الغناءيه -текстове на песни -texty -paroles -στίχοι -गीतletras -songteksten -тексты песен -versuri -tekst utworu -testi -the text of the song - - نص الاغنيةтекста на песента -tekst pjesme -text písně -teksten til sangen -teksti, laulu -le texte de la chanson -το κείμενο του τραγουδιού -पाठ के गीतEl texto de la canción -de tekst van het lied -der Text des Liedes -teksten til sangen -o texto da canção -Текст песни -textul de la piesa -Texten till låten -il testo della canzone

Flowers by L

     

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feat. Method Man, Raekwon the Chef, Superb
Intro: [Raekwon]
"Huh huh huh huh huh hah hah hah hah hah hah"
[Yeah, yeah, why'know
Tranquilise, tranqulise]
Yeah, yeah
Yo Ghostface! {*echoes*} [c'mon]
Raekwon! {*echoes*}
Meth! {*echoes*}

[Raekwon]
See me in the club, got a gun on my Lex/legs
Select paper and invade all the illest niggas
Tally up pen, yo, Live Crew meetin'
Layin' in the lab with rolls o' fly mo-e ho
All niggas eatin' (WOAH! *echoes*)
Wreckin' Ball Gangsters, unleash the law
Straight up, colourful drawers, bad whores
On the weekend eat a raw style like Flounder
Fuckin' wit' mine or how we design
My niggas might find ya
Layin' in the Tropics, big dick shit on park
They way his Khak's look, niggas on ?chocolates?
Movin' out, colour ?gorangos? switch to me, bro
That's how I picture rich niggas with the same coats
All rich niggas with the same coat.

[Method Man]
You can catch this crew, and fall in a ship
Fully equipped, on a star tack, callin' a bitch
How much you get, when that Absolute and Hennesey mix
(Ultimate, ultimate) Wu shit, my whole click (Ultimate, ultimate)
Rubba-dub, ass in the club, showin' me love
Sayin' "Peace" to the nigga that thug, I got the drugs
And the .38, snub-nose, strikin' a pose
Baby girl, throw the drink on my clothes, then meet ya ?bos?
Lewis Fritz, Hot Nikks, nigga what's happenin'?
Any shit, holdin' my dick, smokin' a clip, thanks for askin'
Mashin', the latest fashion,
Dance floor packed with whites, blacks and latins
All N Together, together for worship better
Now I put it down whether it's Methy but they don't Meth-Tical
Prop, skate, roll, bounce
I'm bound to wreck ya body as they turn the party out.

[Raekwon]
Oh magazine's slipped, kinda like we lit
Deliver was a lit, ya niggas know
High niggas rent , I'm set like nuh Purple and the new Lex
Trifle and work, let's murder eveything that Wu wanted sent

[?]
I'd better pay Big Momma for usin' his lyrics
Pay Big Momma for usin' his lyrics
(You betta) Pay Big Momma for usin' his lyrics
Pay Big Momma for usin' his lyrics (come on, come on)

[Superb]
And my mouth stay dry ''cause I swallow the struggle
I might connect you to a VCR, add delay, bug you
I'm not a gangsta, I hate thugs too
I'm just a nigga that painted a picture without a paintbrush too
Without a paintbrush too

[Ghostface Killah]
Bulletproof Wallets, 20 t'ya kids that says made outta Korea
Top Sear, pass the beer, last to see a raj
(?) be beamed up behind the stove askin' how Maria pop Leer
Cursed style near, burst out a purse with the gods you jeer
From Star's Pizzeria, police hate the veer
Especially when the shots ring off in slow motion, when yo' head hit the
meter
You lost two leaders, at the same case speeder
Peter Slim Duch shook 'em down for his reefer
James chased the recent with a hatchet on Easter
Two murders in the 'hood, we call it double ?faeces?
Watch how I eat this, freak the best teacher
At the prayer with the preacher, I get (?) in the bleachers
And your girl, I might eat her
I'm a lover, not a biter (well, yeah)
I still catch her for a piece

[Superb] *singing*
He's as good as the rest of 'em
And as bad as the worst
So don't hate me
You'd better move over, yeeeeeaaaah- (yeah, yeah) - eeaaaaaah!

*beat stops*
[Ghost] Fuckin' idiots!
*beat starts again*
Outro - Ghostface Killah [?]
Yo, uhuh, Wallets motherfuckers
That's right, all my shit is Bulletproof
Stoop for the Bulletproof (yeah)
Yeah, Projects (yeah) Bulletproof Wallets [DJ! DJ! *echoes*]
On yo' ass nigga, you heard?
Dirt-ass niggas, ya niggas ain't got a chance *echoes*

[Stadio *echoes*]
[One-three *echoes*]
[Word up! *echoes*]
[Ya now dead *echoes*]

Writer : SHAYAN, BABAK
Copyright : Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing

These lyrics are not available for printing.

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