Текст песни "T.I. - Top Back"
[T.I.] Crem de la crem, homie...top shelf, ye know [I like my beat down low, down low, down low,(Ye see me ridin' hard homie..Haaaa) down low, down low, down low,(how I like it) down low (how I like it, aye) I like my top let back, let back,(Mannie Fresh.. I got you nigga) let back, let back, let back, let back.(I'm gonna show these niggaz what to do with one of your beats, mayne..aye!) Aye holla if you like ya beat down low, down low(I'm shuttin the whole block down) down low, down low, down low, down low, down low And ye top let back, let back,(Here comes trouble homey) let back, let back (I'ma tell you how the king like to ride homeboy),let back, let back, let back] [Chorus] I like my beat down low, and my top let back, You can see me ridin 24's, with a chopper in the back (and if ye like ye) Kenwood HIGH, and ya top let back If ya rims sit high, and ya windows pitch black I like my beat down low, and my top let back, You can see me ridin 24's, with a chopper in the back (aye holla if ye like ye) Kenwood hot, and ya top let back If ya rims sit high, and ya windows pitch black, hey [Verse 1] I'm the man in my city, ain't nobody fuckin wit me You can ask the real niggaz, and all the bad bitches I'm a known drug dealer, I always have 50's And the thugs and the killers was all in class wit me SS'S on 26's, watchin some television Shorty, I'm never slippin got the berretta in vision And ready to pop the clip in, ready to get to trippin Ready to show these folks a celebrity pistol whippin Pimp stolen' the automobile and the roof for the tag missin Polices' try to pursue me it's nothin but gas given Addicted to fast livin, yes I'm one of my dads children Think I'm bad now, shoulda seen me before I had children Give dick to ya daddy's daughter and dare her to have children? Hope he got some insurance cause I definitely have some endurance? Kill her in Mississippi and drive her ass to Missouri Still my wet paint drippin' while I'm woodgrain grippin [Chorus] [Verse 2] I got this Pimp Squad Click, I know you hearda bout us Young niggaz filthy rich, and we ain't worried bout much On this glock I, clutch In God I trust If a fuck nigga start bet his heart I bust Got ya partners and the broad in ya car fucked up What, ya under estimation thought a star wouldn't bust I got the heart and the guts, on this purp I blow Move ten bricks daily tryin' to twerk five mo Ya see the Cadillac swervin down Hollywood Road On the flyest bird in Cali fuckin Hollywood Ho's On a pill and half with my partner Young Dro Bumpin Goodie Mob, Soul Food, number fo Other rappers' old dudes told dudes I'ma pro With a loaded fo fo and a quarter brick of blow (Hey) nigga don't you hit me less you buyin 6 or mo My 24 blades glistenin and my 808 kickin [Chorus] [Verse 3] I wear the crown down under, man somebody better tell 'em 'For I spit a hundred rounds and have everybody bailin I got some bitches in a Benz and my partners in the Chevy And now we ridin Giovanni's and Asani's on Pirellis If ya ever think ya tryin to run up on me just forget it The clip in the chopper long as ya leg and leave ya shredded Pistol way in the truck got my knife on tuck Ya think he ain't getn stuck you got life fucked up A couple stiches in ya hip will have ya night fucked up Will he live? Will he die? Guess he might luck up Meanwhile I'm racin my Ferarri like a light for a buck Against Lamborghini Gallardo everytime I get a car... [Chorus]Обновить текст