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