- 歌词
- 专辑列表
Fes Taylor
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Hands In The Air The Movie
[Intro:Fes Taylor] Two 4 War/Divine Films presents Hands in the Air (Yo, Taylor, what up, my baby? And how ya?) Just came back from Nebraska and shit (I ain't seen you in a minute, I been in the studios and shit You worked out hard and shit, right?) Yea, yea (I ain't heard you spit nothing in a minute though, kid Yo, yo, lemme get some new shit, kid, right now We gotta get some new shit from you) I don't know (Right now, baby, haha, I know you got some shit for me, man This ya boy, baby)
[Fes Taylor] 2 Fly, baby, they love it when I say it Still thugging when I play it And fucking with the greatest latest apparrel, my favorite avenues Weigh it and bag it, see how fast this package move Piff, blow a sack or two, rap in the booth Then play the shit loud back in the Coupe I'm the artist that wouldn't give up, hardest I went from apartments, to big trucks at real estate auctions Caution, crossing me, is like abortions Still in the Porsches, making 'em nauseous Wrist like a faucet, mix it with frosted Taylor, say I'm the truth, still different than all them Them niggz riffing, I call 'em a bunch of bitches If you see me balling, all my niggaz got lunch dishes I wouldn't munch delicious, and word to everything I would've beat hoops if the rumors wasn't still pending
[Interlude: Fes Taylor] Yo, yo, that shit was crazy, son, you did That shit was wild, that shit was fire, dude I really like that shit, b, yo, you be spitting that shit, kid I like that shit, b (yo, hold up, who the fuck is that over there? Yo, hold up, one second, just being down for kid, just telling you, nigga Yo, ha, hold on, hold on, I'm telling these bitches)
[Chorus 2X: Fes Taylor] See, I'm a fly dude, see me ride through I'm feeling you mami, your hips and your thighs too How are you? You looking like a candy store girl I'm just trying to browse through, how that sound to you?
[Fes Taylor] Enough about me, let's talk about you See if you open the door when I walk around too The other side of the car on some Bronx Tale shit See, I'm living like Sunny or them Barksdale kids Pardon if I act like you wearing a wire I beat the, checking me out, stare at my attire I'm flier than the birds over telephones wires Niggaz telling I got birds in from of Judge Myers Suppliers and buyers, riders, you divide 'em Multiply with CD's, now they wanna sign 'em I've seen a lot of little me's, I don't be around 'em They try to hate on the kid, I don't even clown 'em The sound of them is like silence to my ears Most of the bullshit they saying I don't even hear Crib out in N.C., I ain't even there Spend my weekends, Miami, laying on the beach, share While she speech hares, she said 'Lemme speak here' Gotta speak clear, put ya hands in the air
[Outro: Fes Taylor] Yo, what the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck type of shit is this? (Yo, hold up, you put ya gun down, man) Nah, fuck that, the fuck you wan' play me like that, man? Niggaz is bugging, I'm out of here, man What type of shit is this, b? This shit? Hell yea, you fucking bitch The fuck kinda shit is this? You smoking weed and shit... (yo fuck that bitch) I don't even wanna believe this shit (yo that bitch a cop) {*gunshot*}
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