Name: Rinky Dink/Whatever Ho (feat. Hypnotize Camp Posse)
Duration: 5 min 31 s
Description: Слушайте песню Rinky Dink/Whatever Ho (feat. Hypnotize Camp Posse) - Project Pat, Hypnotize Camp Posse онлайн с альбома Ghetty Green в хорошем HiFi качестве с сервисом Звук. Продолжительность песни - 5:31. Год выхода - 1999

Ghetty Green

Project Pat

North Memphis

N.O.R.E.

Tear da Club Up Thugs

Represent It (feat. Noreaga & Tear Da Club Up Thugs)

Out There

Ni**as Got Me F**ked Up

DJ Paul

You Know the Biss (feat. Project Pat)

Lord Infamous

Choices (feat. Lord Infamous)

Three 6 Mafia

Juvenile

Hot Boy$

The Big Tymers

Ballers (feat. Juvenile, The Big Tymers, Hot Boyz & Three 6 Mafia)

Run a Train

Krayzie Bone

Up There (feat. Krayzie Bone)

Rinky Dink II/We're Gonna Rumble

B.G.

Choppers (feat. B.G. & Project Pat)

Gold Shine (feat. Three 6 Mafia)

Hypnotize Camp Posse

Rinky Dink/Whatever Ho (feat. Hypnotize Camp Posse)

Unknown

You still fuckin' with them Hypnotize mind niggas?

Come on, man, you know the business, you see the chain?

You need to come on over to Rinky Dink Records (Come on)

(You can get some Tommy's) tommy? (and get fresh)

Bitch, you ain't on my level, you need to get the hell out my motherfuckin' face, ho

Hypnotize Camp and Prophet Posse in this motherfucker

Get one of these gold plaques on the wall before you talk some old

Evergreen things have got these cowards on the run, bitch

Doped up like a motherfucker (cough, cough, snort)

You could catch me in the same hood, on the fuckin' same block

With a pearl Rolex watch, and a knot, and a Glock

9 o'clock clock nigga, like a sniper, I'll be clashing, waitin'

Waitin' to put a end to you hoes and you niggas hatin'

I'ma be every fuckin' piece of skrilla cheese out here I can make

I'ma break every fuckin' bitch, fatalities that I can bring

I'ma millie my pillie but killie, killin' everything that I wanna kill

You weak ass niggas don't want Lord Infamous from South Parkway to get ill

Long from the norm, we get dumb with a bomb, with the guns you bitches y'all best get steel

So, all y'all listen closely don't you ever forget

Y'all wouldn't, y'all never be shit with out us bitch

About the Crunchy fuckin' Black, Thug Posse you bitch

Motherfuckers gonna get they bodies in a trunk

Get down on your knees, give me all your cash

Whoa, motherfucker watch yourself, just watch your back

'Cause we're stealin' we chillin' with Pat

You straped with them gats, be ready to attack

All you hatin' ass niggas that wanna jump, yo punk, what's up?

You better come up real with your motherfuckin' shit, 'cause boy, it's gonna get rough

Situation's gone bad, for you niggas claimin' killers

Automatic triggers pullin' drillin' holes inside your liver

How you figure, I was gon' let you talk that shit and peep these streets

Sayin' "That Scan Man boy's a bitch" now watch them throw lights out in my head

Bullets rickin' off the walls, nigga this is Warfare

Specialise in takin' notes, specialise in nappin' hoes

Niggas this is serious, I can't play no games no more

Niggas actin' curious, but I think they know the score

Bitches know the Hypnotize medallion show what click you claim

Hold it up strong, only those who stay real, or maintain' in this game

A lotta' niggas talk that shit and end up gettin' they wigs split

It's M.C Mack, a nigga known for smackin', jackin' crackerjacks

Buster ass nigga, run your mouth and get your ass blowed off

Watch me put my ski-mask on, cock my gat back, trick, now drop it off

Shoot a stupid sucker in a minute, don't you give a fuck about another nigga, if he's speakin', use your counter attack

Rollin' like a nigga, smack a nigga like a nigga smack a bitch

Ain't no love lost off in my heart, there's no place colder

Won't you come a little closer, nigga, you won't be rollin' our

Have 'em in jail suspended, in the middle

But if you fuck with family ties, we leave you triple

That nigga there know his gun a missle, Lord don't flash on him, man ain't chival

Erasin' ample business all in name of T-Rock

Suckers eat pot, swallow, being punished for three rocks

Bangin' the hit stops, it won't be over, 'til your heat pops

Away from the gravity, stand and point your a Tech and see him drop

Sweet dreams baby, Rock-a-bye baby(don't let me go)

Niggas wanna run up, we be flexin' the TEC and

Be pointed at ya we comin', and I bitch, I bet you, I bet you

You wanna hit 'em, but nigga you can't forget 'em, forget 'em

Because you sorry, and sorry ain't nothin' but venom

I know bitches out there lovin' me, niggas got dreams of fuckin' me

Fuckin' me ain't the story gon' fuck you up more than me

I'm at a gunfire, bustin' on you hoes to get my point across

Ridin' in your hood and let the motherfuckin' bullets toss

Tossin' me a berries pack, now I'm tossin' you some drama

Ridin' with my congregation, and we smokin' on marijuana

If you wanna go to war with us, we prepared to bust

Caught that niggas slippin' at his place, shot him in his face

Now I race, from the scenery, knowin' I'm greenery

Know I got a temper but you tricks wanna be mean to me

It's the weak, told a tale of Julius Caesar, how he rose

Newspaper, told a tale of how you knocked off his toes

You should know, that we rollin' deep, hittin' like a train

Kiss the floor, don't be lookin' dumb 'cause I don't explain

I maintain, killers catchin' drinks, Project catchin' cappers

Shoot at your motherfuckin' lanes, they be catching vapors

Player haters, violatiers, bullshiters, this for y'all

Boy I keep a big gun, you don't want none

Слушайте песню Rinky Dink/Whatever Ho (feat. Hypnotize Camp Posse) - Project Pat, Hypnotize Camp Posse онлайн с альбома Ghetty Green в хорошем HiFi качестве с сервисом Звук. Продолжительность песни - 5:31. Год выхода - 1999

Rinky Dink/Whatever Ho (feat. Hypnotize Camp Posse)

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