Music Video

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Credits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
Onyx
Onyx
Künstler:in
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Stephen Anderson
Stephen Anderson
Komponist:in
Tyrone Taylor
Tyrone Taylor
Komponist:in
Fred Scruggs
Fred Scruggs
Komponist:in
Sticky Fingaz
Sticky Fingaz
Komponist:in
B. Sandlin
B. Sandlin
Komponist:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Bud-da
Bud-da
Produzent:in
DJ LS ONE
DJ LS ONE
Mischtechniker:in
Ken "Supa Engineer" Duro
Ken "Supa Engineer" Duro
Mischtechniker:in

Lyrics

(Ladies and gentlemen) (Welcome aboard Official Nastee Airlines, flight 188) Kill it in the club, baby, show some love (come on) My real thugs, where you at? Baby throw your guts (throw your guts) To all the ladies in the spot, show me what you got (what? What? What?) Fake cats in the back, get rocked what, react (yeah) Kill it in the club (come on), baby show some love (uh-huh, yeah) My real thugs, where you at? Baby throw your guts To all the ladies in the spot, show me what you got Fake cats in the back, get rocked what, react (what? What? React!) Real thug shit unplugged Ladies lust, angel dust, aim and bust Bitches who nod, the bulletproof ride's coke in my eyes And got me shootin' at a ghost 'cause it looks alive Too close, antidote, leaks of gun smoke Here to get those, snakes get it the most G's overdose, we wreck toast to death notes Tech blows, I only put a hole in your leg so (Ladies and gentlemen) It's going on right now Official Nast' don't be playin' around, we lay it down Dead you, for the whole win, leave you frozen Crime scene reporter snapshots like you posin' You got in the way, sorry to say You shoulda known, shinin' on Sonsee's not in the day All the niggas in my zone, my close affiliates Be rippin' it illin' it adrenaline spendin' and killin' shit (yeah) Kill it in the club, baby, show some love My real thugs, where you at? Baby throw your guts (throw your guts) To all the ladies in the spot, show me what you got Fake cats in the back, get rocked what, react (react) Kill it in the club, baby show some love (what?) My real thugs, where you at? Baby throw your guts (yeah, yeah) To all the ladies in the spot, show me what you got Fake cats in the back, get rocked what, react (what?) Yo, yo I'm on some other shit, run up on your mother shit Hockey mask, black tape, tapin' up your baby brother shit Two guns, one in your face, one in my waist Empty the safe, hit 'em with the Glock he caught a stray shot Fucked his girl and made him watch, made a death wish I cut his throat now wear that like a necklace, respect this 22shots bodily harm, goodbye to your legs Goodbye to arms goodbye to your moms The shit'll happen so fast, the gut blast left his brains on the glass In a dash I snatched the cash and fled off in a flash The only thing I ever lost I couldn't find was time Son some crackers locked me up that's how I lost my mind Hit him from behind four times and toss the nine, fuck him He didn't listen told him give me the shine The sick shit is when the police, came around to get me The killers who was with me, snitchin' sayin' it was 50 (uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh) Kill it in the club, baby, show some love My real thugs, where you at? Baby throw your guts (throw your guts) To all the ladies in the spot, show me what you got (Uh-huh, uh-huh) Fake cats in the back, get rocked what, react (yeah) Kill it in the club, baby show some love My real thugs, where you at? Baby throw your guts To all the ladies in the spot, show me what you got Fake cats in the back, get rocked what, react (what? What? What!) Fuck the rap skit, X and the drug complex (uh) When convicts'll start conflicts, kill they own accomplice Life in the drain niggas money's got my gold chain thicker (yeah, yeah, yeah) Whole brain sicker, hall of fame nigga (yeah, yeah!) From coast to coast I keep the toast My weekly gross, leave you deeply froze Half dead close to ghost, yo, you heartless Your heart pump piss, regardless if you a thug or rap artist (uuh!) I seen death, almost died twice tonight Sell my own mother out if the price is right I hate life, gimme the Glock About to join Biggie and 'Pac and you comin' like it or not Get off me! Let me go, don't hold me back Where my real thugs at? Baby throw your gut Sticky fingaz, from out your darkest fears I make you meet your maker, make you meet the man upstairs Kill it in the club, baby, show some love My real thugs, where you at? Baby throw your guts (what? What?) (Get her) To all the ladies in the spot, show me what you got (uh-huh) Fake cats in the back, get rocked what, react (yeah) Kill it in the club, baby show some love My real thugs, where you at? Baby throw your guts (throw your guts) To all the ladies in the spot, show me what you got Fake cats in the back (what?) Get rocked what, react (react!) Killin' it (kill it in the club! What? What?) Killin' it Kill it in the club, baby, show some love My real thugs, where you at? Baby, throw you gats (yeah) To all the ladies in the spot, show me what you got Fake cats in the back, get rocked what, react (what? What? What?) Kill it in the club, baby, show some love (Uh, yeah) My real thugs, where you at? Baby, throw your gats (Official Nast') To all the ladies in the spot, show me what you got (amen) Fake cats in the back, get rocked what, react (Onyx) Killin' it (Ladies and gentlemen) (Welcome aboard Official Nastee Airlines, flight 118) (yeah) Word up yo, official Nast' Gettin' cream, onyx, we move with the many crews We let you know right now, we shuttin' shit down 98, word up get your shit straight You think your shit hot? Stick your shit up What? Bring your shit to the club Bring your heat to the street Official Nast', shuttin' shit down, what? (Ladies and gentlemen) (Welcome aboard Official Nastee Airlines, flight, 188)
Writer(s): Kirk Jones, Fred Jr. Scruggs, Stephen William Anderson, Harry H. Jr. Scorzo, Tyrone Taylor, Bruce D. Sandlin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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