Текст, перевод и аккорды “Fuck Dat”
- [Fredro Starr] Yo! Turn that shit up, word up! Afficial Nasty Niggas...Fuck Dat! Ya niggas is dead-ass! Know what I'm sayin'? We're payin' my niggaz ' All City 'n shit! Word up! Yo Mega, Fuck Dat! Rip that Brooklyn shit nigga! [J. Mega, (Fredro Starr)] What? What? What? What? What? What? My fleet goals, by da creep cold We blaze, y'all won't see those, you just feel 'em We raise the states in this game, like helium The new millenium, got me in mo' for killin' 'em Green backs, I want a mil (of) 'em! But don't minimum, strictly max out, the ol's put the black out Niggaz be frontin', we take the back rob Now stay with that style, original, wanna act wild? City puttin' cartracks out, as we stack now We're nuthin' to match out, formula See it clearly through my corner-ya This goes out to niggas on the corner, Mega's on ya Rap performer, no diploma, I'm sippin' on Corona, keep my carpet Coma The East New York Soldier, what? (Fuck Dat! That's the All City shit! Yo Greg Valentine!) [Greg Valentine, (Fredro Starr), {Sticky Fingaz}] The beats be Rushen like Patrice You better had that bulletproof vest under ya fleece Then a clever sceam up ya slees, we has to say da least Between the thugs and the police, shit'll never be peace Cause holiday, raise ya weights ya hourly rate We poly for higher states, buyin' fire escapes See this, criminal life is like a 'roll it in dice' Niggaz holdin' they ice, wild bust on a slice Yo it's too often too hot, in this ghetto meldin' pot Put out these fagat ass niggas try to steel what I got As if, that ain't enough, for Jakes is ratin' the spot Where we eat at, but tonight that's where they bleed at That belone her with the flame, throwin' their rain, it's over Prayed to Jehova, jiggaz up, the game's over (All City what, All City what?! Fuck Dat! Yo Sticky) {wassup nigga?}( Come here nigga, Fuck Dat! Let these muthafuckaz know nigga!!!) {I want some NEW SHIT!} (Afficial Nast! What?!!) [Sticky Fingaz, (Fredro Starr)] Oh ooh, here the thug come, from out the dungeon Say goodbye to ya love one, you can't run from, the dum-dum Kickin' WACK SHIT! I cut out ya tongue son! I'm in this rap shit for the lump sum Hit the stage as soon as the blunt's done YOU DON'T WANT NONE! But regardless We the wildest, you get demolished I muthafuckin', muthafuckin' murder, want charges! Walkin' targets, kill any rap artist! Still hate ya GUTS!, and hope that ya DIE! If you not a ally, then yo ass gotta fry Two lifes for a life without no remorse You fucked up BIG TIME, you should've finished me off nigga! (What?! Fuck Dat! Fuck Dat! Afficial Nast what up?! Yo Lefty, I got a new nigga for ya niggaz! Yo Fuck Dat! Step up and shit....) [Bubba Smith, (Fredro Starr), {X-1}] I roll with gat-swingers, that bay arms like tanktops A bunch of problem bringers, that an ass bet ya wanna make your bank stop Guaranteed to make ya block hot, we runnin' the spots We're tired of jizzle 'n rocks, we straight up fuckin' in villains or jachts Got the Big Apple on smash like mobbs, we're livin' hell really?! So we just vanish 'n rob, paper tellin' me we all dyin' from a leg docs(?) So fuck it, it's even get it get-got, so what?! Bring it, I'm closin' now shut, I don't give a FUCK about gettin' popped Them thugs probably heard, left these two guns is al lot! It's my time to go, playa, I'm tryin' to go spittin' you For the dolies, niggaz just press G-O While shoot outs, reachin' for the glocks, on my way to gettin' drugs Still spittin' ya, 3-60 pill, I was drugged up, in a sixth still SHITTIN' ya Call it murder, besides anybody TRY to here missin' (Fuck Dat! Yo X -1 nigga!) {What nigga?} (Ya betta fuckin' do this shit nigga!) {What what, what, what?!} (Fuck Dat! Afficial Nasty Niggas! Fuckin' takin' this streets! That niggas is dead!) [X-1, (Fredro Starr)] All you crack niggaz, I don't even like your style If it wasn't for love, you be dead right now Speak upon the gun nor, X is layin' it down Dirty two rounds, sprayin' ya town Takin' dirt back under the ground, be a man, take ya laws Die with the sacred course, six's bein' deep on the basic floors (They hate that shit nigga! What?! Kick the our fuckin' shit! Fuck Dat!) Be a hard rock and see where you end up 'bout Before my hart stops, kid I'm tryin' to see some jacks You better get dropped dog, just read the facts Dig a gunshot, at least about bringin' you back I run in cold spots, or walk that for liquid cats X critical source, with criminal thoughts, under the physical laws Your visual lost, X-million now, nigga tripple the course I cripple
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