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Bài hát 9 milli bros do ca sĩ Ghostface Killah, Wu Tang Clan thuộc thể loại R&b/hip Hop/rap. Tìm loi bai hat 9 milli bros - Ghostface Killah, Wu Tang Clan ngay trên Nhaccuatui. Nghe bài hát 9 Milli Bros chất lượng cao 320 kbps lossless miễn phí.
Ca khúc 9 Milli Bros do ca sĩ Ghostface Killah, Wu Tang Clan thể hiện, thuộc thể loại R&B/Hip Hop/Rap. Các bạn có thể nghe, download (tải nhạc) bài hát 9 milli bros mp3, playlist/album, MV/Video 9 milli bros miễn phí tại NhacCuaTui.com.

Lời bài hát: 9 Milli Bros

Lời đăng bởi: fenghui.liu

Bob Digi, U-G-O-D, Raekwon the Chef, the Inspector Deck, M-E-T-H-O-D, the B-O-B-B Straight up, master killer, the jizzer, the genius It's an old d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-dirty *** 1-2, 1-2, turn it up, it's a headphone, turn it up Yo, you hear me? What up, Tony? What's up, Don-Don? All the way up You know how we do That's all it goes What's up, y'all? Uh-huh You know how I like it Huh? W-T-C That's right, you know what I mean? Ghosts, ghosts, ghosts, ghosts, ghosts The runners in the sledge, we bout to dash We got females, they got it like that The golden childs that bomb the crowd See niggas in the place that bent my style Well, I'm a singer, a dancer, we bulletproofed others Wu-Tang got the answer Cause if I had a chance to do it again I will still keep the heat in my pants up Y'all be nice to the crackheads, everybody listen up I shot one of my bitches, the hole ain't trickin' up Worldwide, the big screen gone Tappin' dust bones out with star writers Like I *** Celine Dion Stuck, everything that's the gods on is beyond We hearin' niggas out, that's the type *** that we on Official Wu-Tang headbanger Blood to space, we're big waves like it didn't serve Laker I drink heavy gallons of crude, play the big par Niggas got squid on the grill, sellin' kid's club with S-notes Yo, the guests on with the best clothes, yellow suede one Matchin' hat with a gray gun, niggas be rhymin' for nothin' Then my team pull up, we all roll down Y'all broke niggas stay frontin', lines come digital, stupid Plus, ain't got no jerry on, bet I'm still live and I'm coopin' Two of my silverbacks, run through a pack of your wolves Front on the Yak, you sippin' Cognac, lil' Max, dude Knowin' what this track's on Yo, Dirk McGirt, solid tone, Smith with six shots Next shot, leave your hoes like I shot him up with six dots Brooklyn Jew, feel it Brooklyn Jew, feel it It's the return of Ben Lattin' *** your armor, smash pretty boy niggas Crust, they karma, eat bones with alligators Roll deep with my entourage My whole crew's fresh out the bars, diggle up A.K.A. the cab driver Drop him off in the middle of fire, Dirty Allen Drag bodies to the murder land Knock niggas out, hurt my hand I remember in the elevator, we was playin' corners Now we play the corners and the cops is stayin' on us Statins where the war is, where the court system's runnin' out of warrants Where TNT be jumpin' out the toilet, poor girl, I can't call her You see I love Lucy cause she flawless Exactly like that one on 304 Snitch nigga, swallow your tongue Already know that Allen in front And now I want the crowd to go We got a history, full of lightning victories Conceptual breakthrough, it ain't no mystery Long vision, from giants in every way Rap czars, magnificent flows for every day From the east to the vill, from the west to the hills Incredible rhymes, encouraging skills From rap hacks, the smallest crews were enormous We hit them fast, with an effortless performance MC's start playin' and flocks, especially those That's more sensitive to heat and shock We grindin', down to the bone, my name grounded in stone I'm Mr. Flawless, we loungin' with chrome Mr. Flawless, we loungin' in his home Hit the house on a roam, shinin' like a hundred thousand in stones Moved mountains with poems, got a choice for dinero One, six, zero, my song, we throwin' arrows The hoes cling, choke thin, we known kings Only dime tights, but mine's right, we chose queens Yeah, we wild like rock stars, we smash guitars Your son split his face with a toast, he ain't ghost It's no joke, I ain't cold, rifle with the scope One toke, brain float, shot to the throat before the smoke hit Witness the killer, chillin' crime scene Body on the block, eyes open from the shock I'm bein' popped in the neck, yet he's still hella lit Cigarette between his fingers, danger when you steppin' In the chamber with the master Disaster, gotta blast ya, cause I hafta The Rat Pack was back from the out of the stack Yeah, you cursed us, cause you worshipped the gat The first one to snap drunk off the smeared oil Blow the bouncer's ear off, let him floss He the boss, handcuffed to the turntables Like wizard did or see it's pure Let it rain, pearly ounces Bangin' with the dang that hang from the trousers You don't want no drama, I'm flamin' fast That nigga jumped up and did the demon dash

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