Текст песни Hot Boys 226 (B.G.) с переводом

Nigga you peepin, 'cause I’m peepin for niggas creepin

I’m on my game ready to be releasin and rearrange

Ya fuckin brain

Carry and shoot that old 50 plus

Out the clip these bullets rush, leave ya fuckin head bust

Wuz up, I freeze beef like a deep freezer

Ya talk noise, where ya stand nigga is where I leave ya Believe in me and my click, hit ya block erasin

Leave ya thoughts wastin, I run a hundred miles paper chasin

I’m 'bout drama, foolishness, whatever start the trigga play

I had to spank a nigga believin what a bitch say

Like K.C., I don’t play

Spin a nigga bin everyday

A hundred round drum on the K Leave ya set a straight disaster

Ya got birds? I smash ya Refuse, I leave that ass, know that I’m nasty

No clues, I can’t be caught

I can’t be found, it’s all on you

I stop ya heart from beatin, down to the dirty-do

I leave a nigga flesh hangin from his chest

'Cause the best that he dressed

Couldn’t fuck with the Smith &Wess

B.G., Black Connection 226 start static

Comin out a nigga attic leavin holes in ya carriage

I ride all night 'til I catch a bitch

And when I catch, I auto matic wet ya bitch

It’s that nigga off the block, call me the hood mack

Disguised in red bandana strapped wit the chrome and black mack

Check, while you be the playa hater, I be the bitch fader

Bullets graze ya, nigga I tried to erase ya Pick the casket, dump the Glock in the basket

I stroll slow, a tisket, a tasket

I brings enough of ??? heat then I bring my boys

To destroy, chop ya down like a clown

UPTOWN!!!

That is my destination

And murderin motherfuckers is my occupation

You’d rather face the nation than to fuck wit me I keep a chopper, I’m a fool out that wild TC

Good bye, better yet I’ll see ya later

I’m smooth with the steel and wit the hands I’m like Frazier

Okey doke yo bitch ass, then I take the cash and blast

Never get caught, my trade mark is the black mask

226 tattoed on my over my heart

This here mark means that I was down from the start

Releasin them cop killers and body peelers

I got ya, you bitch

Now it’s time for me to drop ya Head shots stop, complete

50 shots when our choppers scream

Havin trouble this evenin

Leavin the scene not breathin

Me and the Hot Boyz ride

Cheif and gettin high

Beef and niggas die when me and the Hot Boyz ride

Girlfriend under the seat, driver side of the Hummer

Here comes the chopper drummer faster than a track runner

Don’t play the hard road 'cause the hard road will get you left

On your way to the crossroads, no tomorrow for yourself

Wettin your whole set and where I think ya be at

Attackin your old hood and where ya people sleep at React, pure D-donkey, 'bout gettin funky

Turk throw me the junk keep more ammo than an army

Clips that’s all extended leave you bended, rear ended

SK’s be sendin, slugs can’t be defended

There goes the arrival, chopper spits five more

Screamin lets start the war 'cause we 'bout survival

I gets loose, chopper, blast drastically, tragically

Bloody, bloody bodies lie upon the ground raggedy

You turn around I got that red light beamin bright

You full of fright 'cause you know you might die tonight

I gets tool it’s, I’m ruthless, do more shootin this

'Bout gettin foolish, lose it, chopper, ready to shoot it The head buster, Apple and Eagle, B.G., still a sinner

I got his body stank behind the Carrollton shoppin center

Baby, gimme the keys, gimme the G’s, gimme the weed, gimme the mack-10

Let me see what’s happenin, to me these niggas lackin

Some tellin me felonies was commited, some was acquitted

My destiny is to live not in jeopardy, to the death of me

I provide knowledge that spread like a virus

This a street orientation, you can’t learn this in college

You be fuckin around wit the keys if you aint rollin shit up I wish you niggas wit me, I would be sewin shit up Look, hide out in the cut

Peep out Shot, Corey and Buck

In an Expedition truck

And brain fucked up from that dust

Nigga, who trippin?

I aint trippin, you trippin

When I slap that clip in You shittin like stool pigeons

That’s my bitches, that’s my riches, that’s my niggas

That’s my yayyo, that’s my scale

That’s my sale, that’s my clientele

This my block, this my rocks

This my shop, this my Glock

This my connection with the mob

That’s my partna black Saab

This my people, that’s my people

That’s hot rimmed Regal

Ask my lawyer, I do it legal

That’s my credit card from Segal’s

This my cigar, this my weed

This my Newport, this my reefer

That’s my old Alma Mater

That’s my uncle drinkin that bottle

Okay, I’m from that 3 and I don’t give a fuck

Nigga, I say murda, murda, what the fuck is up?

Nigga better duck when I come around that bend, I’m 'bout that drama

With the dirty 30, nose dirty

And I’m from that 3 and I be gat totin

I feel ya body full of lead

Put you to bed

And now another that done came up, fuck

I plot and make sure that I don’t miss the hit

You up in ???, I got ya, I hurt ya Now I’m up in ya rest area, finish ya I come with a bouquet of flowers

Within the bouquet of flowers is a 9 nickel plated to devour

And motherfuck anybody tryin to get yo back

They better be 'bout some comin around the men in black