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    T-bone »

    T-bone Conversion текст песни



    Im ready to make a murder scene happen

    Pimp slappin demons and packin

    Unload clips, reload and sink ships like a captian

    You act like you be knowin, when a G be rappin

    Runnin from the scene while O.R.C playas be gangsta scrappin

    Now hold up cause they done did it, diss the lyric I spitted

    Even though I know you and your crew ain’t even gonna admit it

    Now slow down T, this family

    They mess wit you, they mess wit me and also E

    Why?, this be O.R.C.

    Lyrically comin wit ski masks out the bushes

    Wit chainsaws, and axes diggin

    These demons while they’re blood gushes

    Ima jack these demons one by one

    They call me Big Daddy Kane, why? Cause I get the job done

    Now watch me jack these demons, hit em wit a gat

    Show em how a real G suposed to act

    Smugglin Bibles instead of gat

    Rollin drop top cadillacs, puttin it down streets corners and shows

    For all my foes, thug riders and patnas on death row

    Really though


    Bone be the one wit the guns in his hand

    Demons tryin to kill him, cause they no like him

    Smugglin Bibles to countries filled wit comminism

    Tryin to preach them the WORD then convert to Christian



    Tryin to reach them pimps and thugs

    Curb serves movin them major drugs

    Gang bangin rollin 60′s crips and them piru bloods

    One love to all the preachas on the street corners

    2 dubs for all my riders out in California

    Peace to my patnas up in Frisco,

    San Jose, East Palo Alto, Sacramento

    Fresno, Vallejo, Richmond, Leandro

    Oakland, Hayward, Los Angeles, Diego

    Ya’ll know, the golden state full of hate and drama

    Marijuanna and thugs that shoot a quien las da la ganna

    most got both hands on they’re desert eagle

    gotta watch ya back cause here in California killins legal

    Rollin regals, impalas, cadis and them el caminos

    Hittin switches, best beware of all them hattin snitches

    Takin pictures of west coast cali sunsets

    Streets infested wit all them gang bangin ghetto vets

    No regrets,my patnas dyin over them gangs and sets

    Havin sex wit girls in mini skirts and pink barrettes

    Whats next, sick of techs and all them ghetto birds

    Smell of herb, and playboys sippin on the thunderbird

    I’ll scream until I’m heard, preach the WORD

    In every alley, crack ghetto curb

    Wit the beats and verbs

    Anointed by the might God I serve


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