Facebook
  • Minhas Letras
  • P
  • Popa Wu
  • Gangster Theme (Letra)
    1. Gangster Theme (Letra)

      Popa Wu

      Popa Wu

      Curso de Violão - Fórmula Violão

      [intro: freemurder]
      Gangsta niggas, what
      Gangsta bitches, what
      Gangsta killas, what
      Gangsta niggas, what
      Straight gangsta bitches
      Gangsta bitches, what
      Gangsta killas, what

      [hook]
      Uh, brooklyn is where we come from, come from
      U.k. known to fill ‘em up with dumdums
      In the car seat, uh-huh
      Lil’ free, that’s where you get guns from, guns from

      [chorus: freemurder]
      Gangsta killas, what
      Gangsta niggas, what
      Gangsta bitches, what
      Gangsta killas, what
      Gangsta niggas, what
      Straight gangsta bitches, what
      Gangsta killas, what
      Gangsta niggas, what

      [freemurder]
      Party and be more, floor with four honeys
      Cars with three more, none of them hoes ugly
      ‘preme upstairs, nuttin on hoes tummies
      While you grindin ugly freaks, like seymour from mo’ money
      Hard as a rock, straight up and down like sea-saws
      And free, pete rose, free ski whores
      Straight jaw bone, fuck eatin pussy
      Straight hormone jumpin when i’m beatin pussy
      Suspects keep lyin bout they weed and gats
      Till i catch them, change the subject like readin a map
      Drug off, desperado, amaretto
      Bustin berettas, up in you ghetto, alcoholic
      He’s so heavy like chris wallace
      And try to get me off the floor with my shit brolic
      Like brand new gators, yo i love my shit polish
      Flip on niggas, till they demolish, abolish
      Many niggas, friendly niggas turn enemy niggas
      Burn plenty of niggas, don’t tick me nigga
      Little that you know, that shit don’t offend me nigga
      And if one of y’all kill me, god avenge me nigga

      [hook] *’u.k.’ instead of ‘lil’ free’*

      [chorus]

      [freemurder]
      Off to the telly, eyes ring me up on the celly
      All them niggas is fools, satisfy ya belly
      Niggas keep slidin thru like ky jelly
      Talkin nonsense, what you tryin tell me
      Blood gotti, rollin with a red scully
      Punk shotties, aimin out of red chevy’s
      0 tray one, trade one guns, straight blood up
      Actin gigantic, till you get cut up
      Guns be titanic, make ya ass buck up
      Caught you real high standin, that’s how you got stuck up
      On the block drippin, and read the glocks hittin
      All the cops wishin, i’m mad and not shittin
      Fuck police, we all hold four heats
      And put four d’s under four seats
      And on the concrete, waitin for the coroner
      Fuck guliani, free slaughterin ya
      Little bitch, years ago, free ignorin ya
      Lil’ kim bitches, free adorin ya
      Where i’m from? brooklyn, get them dum’s, brooklyn
      Get the ones, brooklyn, afraid of none, brooklyn
      Uh, brooklyn is gun ho, u.k. shit we kick to let the
      Gun blow

      [hook]

      [chorus]

      [freemurder]
      Nyc, gangsta killa, brownsville
      Niggas that fake the killa, be foul killed
      Triggas await killas, free pound peel
      Niggas i hate, stealers on some we found skills
      Chill holmes, three round skill
      From the four-long, kick pressure, my forearm
      That shit had me fallin all out my stands
      Watch ya blood keep pourin all out cha man
      It’s a flood, blood drorrin all out cha man
      Slugs in ya truck, now blood fallin out ya van
      And dad it up, click just banana’d up
      Might as well open the door, cuz i’m tearin it up
      Shittin all in the whip, got you scared as fuck
      Hopin that you won’t die, like montana bro’
      With scarface, all in my grill, with the hard face
      Get sent on a journey to a far far place

      [chorus: just sayin ‘gangsta killa’]

      [hook]

      [chorus]

      [outro: shacronz (freemurder)]
      Hahahaha
      Yo freemurder man this is that gangsta shit man
      This is that universal gangsta shit
      You know that east coast/west coast type of shit, man
      This is that real shit, that b-life shit man
      We’ve been doin this shit for years man
      You know, ever since our fathers man
      You know man, the device lords, the young lords
      The black spades, the ball bustas
      We’ve been doin this shit on the east coast man
      Knowhati’msayin? keep that 5 alive, freemurder
      Let them know, this is the east side, killa thrilla
      Death row till we die man, word up man
      Freemurder man, b-life or no life
      (oh don’t forget them tomahawks nigga, my pops’ll kill you
      Shit is real, p-stone, paroo bloods, you real like i’m real
      This is for them gangstas across the world
      East side homies)

      Compartilhe!