Facebook
  • Minhas Letras
  • P
  • Popa Wu
  • Who’s Got Game? (Letra)
    1. Who’s Got Game? (Letra)

      Popa Wu

      Popa Wu

      Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

      [intro: don chulo]
      Yo, don chulo (that nigga got a problem with the don chulo)
      Les ness, 2 g’s (got, you heard)
      Flatbush, park side, 225 (what?)

      [don chulo]
      Why i feel like i been thru this before?
      Déj?vu, ya still want more?
      Have it your way, we’ll skip the foreplay
      Down on all fours, guess who gettin fucked today
      Fucked on your royalties, fucked on your event
      Fucked on your deal, and this is your very last chance
      So now we gotta take it back to the streets
      By this son, you know i mean back to the heats
      Back to knowin this beef, knowin that nothin is sweat
      My click got eatin you food, leavin nothin to eat
      Come thru, tear it out, nothin but jeeps
      Leavin nuthin to retaliate, nothin to creep
      Game’s over, it’s a sweep, and i’m the mvp
      Snatchin awards and applauds on mtv
      No need to wonder why y’all envy me
      The don c., now y’all see who the don be

      [chorus: don chulo]
      Yo who got game nigga? yo what’s my name nigga?
      The don chulo, ain’t shit change
      I continue to reign, but the bitch is the cocaine
      Take a blast of this and watch it num the brain
      Yo who got game nigga? yo what’s my name nigga?
      The don chulo, ain’t shit change
      Knowledge to minister, chulo the migraine
      Know i return to continue my reign

      [don chulo]
      Yo, hold up, hold up, let’s back this shit up
      You, you and you, yo pack ya shit up
      Yo i’m pushin weight while you crackin the sit ups
      Don’t make you lean you hit up, till you spit up
      Quadriplegic, need help just to get up
      While i’m shy like the skyline with all the buildings lit up
      Don’t be bitter, son take it like a man
      Take it like the cracker did to cherokee’s land
      And when you wake up tomorrow, i’mma still be the man
      I’mma still be the cat, you gotta come to the grams
      Stay stackin my grands, in the benji
      Smokin large amounts of censi, boy don’t tempt me
      To let my clear cinque siete, spit until it’s empty
      Hold that, give it back, like it’s some shit you lent me
      Don’t take it personal, cuz this was meant to be
      The best, is how they gon mention me
      From now until the end of the century

      [chorus]

      [don chulo]
      It’s that head banger shit, drug slanger shit
      Years of anger shit, now it’s some danger shit
      Got ya body divided, with no remainder shit
      You can’t change the shit
      I’m movin so fast that you can’t aim and shit
      This is my game kid, don’t you forget it
      If you do it, boy, will you regret it
      Be somebody gets deaded, yo, i guess ya can see where this headed
      The analytical, lyrical, seven, syndical, biblical, reverend
      Alpha, omega, beginning, the ending
      So what i reap, so i’m cheap, no borrowin or lending
      Cuz once you burn bridges, there is no mendin
      I’m the king of mi casa, with me you can’t prosper
      Chulo dilomite doctor, fuck with no hosta
      Blastin vangoda, stay away from the yada yada
      Keep my mind on nada but the chadda

      [chorus]

      [outro: don chulo]
      Yo, for real all ya playa hatin ass niggas
      Yo this 225, bronx style, flatbush nigga what
      Bk representin, les ness, my nigga self, lady raw
      The whole flatbush crew, bk in general the click nigga
      This how we put shit down, what?

      Compartilhe!