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Lyrics » Letter : P » Artist : Prodigy » H.N.I.C. Lyrics

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H.N.I.C. by Prodigyالقصائد 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

H.N.I.C. by Prodigy

     

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Yo, if this no better than this
It's the hottest shit on street
It move units like Shania Twain on a Mobb beat
The solar system stand still
Gods listen when I speak the world pay attention it's
Capital P, niggaz rather hang up
Ya niggaz know my handle, talkin like you straight thug
Dunn, I catch you while your shoppin for kicks
Surprise bitch, shoot outs is spontaneous and, oh
From now on, call me Columbo
Cause I come through wrinkled up, think I give a fuck?
Look at my chain, look at my anklet
But are you listenin to the words man? My shit bang kid
Nigga I run this shit, I set the trend, you get the dick
That's basically it
These rap niggaz think I'm talkin bout them, nigga please
You ain't in my leagues, follow my lead

I be the H.N.I.C.
The head nigga in charge
The boss, the Captain Crunch dog, the sarge
The M.O.B.B., the status - we large
The guns, the drama, the love, the Mobb
The H.N.I.C.
The Head Nigga in Charge
The guns, the drama, the love, the Mobb
The boss, the Captain Crunch dog, the sarge
The M.O.B.B., the status - we large

I'm all over, me and my dogs enjoy this
We pop bottles, celebrate your death blow a kiss
At your wittle bitch, wish pain on your kids
Piss on your casket kick ya tombstone and shit, dog
And I ain't even that foul type a dude
But all's fair in love and war it's whatcha hand called for
Now ya mans want to ride for your cause
But fuck it, they could get it too, simple as you
And I be God-damned if they put they hands on me
Money brings power and puts guns in parties
Sends niggaz on Amtrak with those for your body
It pays for thirty plane tickets if we got beef, huh
Hardly, you all know what that is
I grew up in the hoods and the projects wit dope fiends and crack heads
Teenage killers with Mack-10s
Best friends cut each other's throat and twist they own fan backwards
Maybe that'd live now I'm on some rap shit
Album sold out keeps me far from the big house
The hand guns from that bigger house
'Cause ain't nobody cuttin for me to enforce to hold it down like

The H.N.I.C.
The Head Nigga in Charge
The guns, the drama, the love, the Mobb
The boss, the Captain Crunch dog, the sarge
The MOBB, the status - we large
The H.N.I.C.
The Head Nigga in Charge
The boss, the Captain Crunch dog, the sarge
The MOBB, the status - we large
The guns, the drama, the love, the Mobb...

Writer : A JOHNSON, L PORTER
Copyright : Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

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