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Тексты песен ›› Буква "t" ›› Tru ›› Whos da killer


Текст песни Whos da killer от исполнителя Tru

    [c-murder]
    Who's da killer whos the motherfuckin nigga
    The one that pull the gun the one that squeaze the fucking trigger
    The cops wanna ask me, wanna harrass me
    About this dead body in the grass g
    If you think I'm gonna talk then your wrong
    Cause in the ghetto, snitches don't live long
    So ima mind my own and keep stiffing
    And don't ask me about no motherfuckin murder weapon
    My kids still ringin from the gun black
    Because it all happened so fast
    I guess my nigga lil mark going to heaven
    Another black victim of 187
    His mom might be crying but she ain't shocked
    Her son lived and died by the fucking rock
    And thats how the story goes
    Everybody in the ghetto getting sweated by the po po's
    But ill never help your ass in this game nigga...
    Who's da killer?

    [master p]
    Rat-tat-tat-rat-tat-tat-rat-tat-tat- quick to put slugs in your cap
    And walk through your hood with my mug on
    Call me master p or call me al capone
    A nigga with no heart
    I was born in the ghetto, homeless in a shopping cart
    Pushed up the street by a dope fiend
    Took to a crack house and taught to use a triple beam
    And ever since then I've been crazy
    Step to a nigga like me your pushing daisies
    Cause I'm quick this in that ass to the county
    And while your dead wipe your blood up with bounty
    From the corner to the hearse and that assed up
    Put bullets in your ass like a garbage truck
    Eliminating fools like a sewer rat
    And floss my 380 married to a mack
    And that ill be a mack 10
    So when I run up on a set punk you know ima do you in

    [big ed]
    Late night in the cutti time to have some fun
    Got a page on my beeper it was number 1
    Reached for the mobile phone got it down to
    Tuner called my lady yo, what's going out?
    She asked me were the fuck are you at, and yo nigga
    Do you have your motherfucking gat?
    Yeah I'm strapped, and I ran around the block
    Then she told me my my older brother got shot
    I got to the house and I opened up the door
    And there was my brother lyin dead on the floor
    And it has me tripped, my ace got popped
    Cause they caught his ass slippng
    Creep through the hood with my hand on my gat
    I gotta get those fools who put my brother on his back
    Seen some niggaz up the block, released the saftey
    Oh when I leave someone is going to hate me
    Boot it up take every fucking nigga
    Out for revenge trying to find out whos da killer

    [king george]
    All the way to the county thats were they had me
    They sent player one trying to bag me
    They keep stressing had a bad bad attitude
    He got the word from the order I was a bad dude
    In the sell my mind did the linger
    I keeped yelling I'm a fucking rap singer
    But nobody listened to a fresh fits convicts
    They bust me off like there ears got sound sick
    Back to the saga coming from my jailsell
    I move around when you hear the fuckin bell yell
    I got involved in a scabble thats a fist fight
    When the foo bust out with a knife
    He started swingin I started ducking
    Started moving it was a foo who was down
    With the proven, I took a ride on the
    C-2 sell block
    I stay strapped with my rock in a sock
    Waiting for a foo to come when it's my way
    Sell lurked through you motherfucking didy date
    Then he came promise he was down with the linching
    Tear gas had the whole floor clinching
    I couldn't breath I was lying in my tin bed
    When a goon grabbed me by my fucking forhead
    He picked me up and put me across his fucking shoulder
    I said bitch you let me die like a soldier
    Damn it was a trip king george could think
    All my boys on the motherfucking paint
    Everywhere I rome every all dead bodies
    God damn I was like john gotti
    Locked in a sell I was like a big black gorilla
    Many died, but nobody saw the killer

    [silkk]
    You should of know your fucking with a motherfucking lunatic
    I ain't playing with a full day, and my minds about to click
    I walked out the house to see if this shitwas fucking tru
    Two slugs to the dome and his face was all blue
    Retalliation fuck the penitention fucking gamble
    Garb the tech, pump the facing amble
    Called up my boy cause niggaz say some
    Where he at? , richmond jumped in the prowler
    Rolling slow rolling slow, rolling fucking slow
    Cut the lights off cause there the nigga go
    Rolled on the set grab the mask point the tech out
    Its a driveby sprayed the niggaz house I was
    Letting em go you should of seen
    But in the process I cut a motherfucking slug
    Dead up in my chest, cops chase me investagating
    A dead nigga, I gave the cops the alias
    Now whos the fucking killer

    [calli g]
    Calli g chourned out by society
    I used to have a 95 even bitches find me
    So I refuse to be a stray for the white man
    So when you see me it's a gat in my right hand
    Neighborhood dopeman
    Nigga from the base so you know me selling cocain
    You fucking with the dank man foo, start the funk
    I do a drop on you and your whole fucking crew
    So here's a last thanksgiving foo
    No turkey cause you wont be living dude
    You catch 17 rounds from my cap peeler
    No when this is, now whos the motherfucking killer

    [e-a-ski]
    A foo got smarks so they calling me the trigger nigga
    Po po's got a snitch trying to frame me as the killer
    Interigating me and I got them foo's spoop
    I dre say ya fuck with me, then it's a must that I fuck with you
    Cause killers don't talk, gimme three hops in the county
    Motherfuckers you figure it out, cause bout a nigga like me
    If I gotta smoke a nigga ima do it on the solo creep
    Cause I be damned if I tell em my self trick
    Some niggaz ill sell you off like pussy on the bitch
    But anyway, back to the story, ya have no nuts, no glory
    No evidence to cut a nigga loose, and that nigga that was snitching
    Ws kuku for coco puffs foo, cause I mean a nigga thats spook
    Try to hide but everybody know he wasn't cool
    2 weeks past and the snitches missing
    They found a nigga dead, with two to the temple
    Somebody put that boy to sleep
    Gave the fool a big fist and put his ass six feet deep
    It might have been me whos know nigga
    Who's the motherfucking killer

    Текст песни Whos da killer от исполнителя Tru представлен исключительно в ознакомительных целях для частного использования. Слова песни принадлежать их авторам.

Другие тексты песен исполнителя Tru:
Would you take a bullet for your homie
Whos da killer
What they call us
We riders
Watch your ass
Tru the begining
Tru s
Tru playaz
Tru homies
Tru 2 da game
Torcher chamber
They cant stop us
The world is yours
The tank goes on
The lord is testin me
The ghetto is a trap
The ghetto is a struggle
Thats how we break bread
Tell them whats going on
Sweated by the po pos
Swamp nigga
Suppose to be my friend
Stay real
Soilder till i die
Smokin green
Run away slaves
Prayer for a g
Pop goes my nine
No limit soldiers
No limit army
Niggas from calli
Never
Mobbin through my hood
Miller boyz
Living that life
Livin like a hustler
Little slut
Light it up
Lets do it
Last dance
Keep it jumping
Keep it all good
Its my time
Its a beautiful thing
Intro
Im the funkiest
Im bout it bout it
I got candy

А знаете ли вы, что классическая музыка признана многими психологами, врачами и самими исполнителями в буквальном смысле чудодейственной. Сама по себе она не совершает чудеса, но она может самым благоприятным образом влиять на человека, растений и животных, на весь окружающий мир. И не важно, что в большинстве композиций классической музыки отсутствуют тексты песен, главное здесь - ее звучание, удачное сочетание нот и звуков.

Доказано, что классическая музыка благотворно влияет на нервную систему. Многие психологи прописывают своим пациентам слушать классическую музыку каждый день. Она не только успокаивает, но и вызывает положительные эмоции у человека. Классическую музыку даже с недавних пор стали использовать прогрессивных взглядов хирурги во время своих операций. Они прочувствовали на себе, что когда операция проводится под звуки классической музыки, все проходит как по маслу, а пациент в скорейшем времени реабилитируется и идет на поправку. Да, и во многих западных больницах в палатах больных играет классическая музыка. По словам врачей, она является усилителем медикаментозного лечения, так как своим звучанием настраивает на положительный лад людей, страдающих тем или иным заболеванием, внушает веру в выздоровление и в собственные силы справиться с болезнью. И все это не пустые слова - это результат проводимых неоднократно экспериментов.

К примеру, был произведен такой эксперимент - в две комнаты, одинаковые по размеру, температуре, влажности, степени освещения, поместили горшки с абсолютно одинаковыми цветами, и в каждой их них включили музыку - в одной классическую, а в другой - тяжелый рок. По истечении определенного времени эксперимент показал следующие результаты - в комнате с классической музыке цветы стали быстро прибавлять в росте, многие расцвели, все выглядели здоровыми, а в комнате с тяжелым роком цветы не только не выросли ни на сколько, а имели нездоровый вид, а многие даже зачахли. Чудодейственное влияние классической музыки на лицо. Однако этот эксперимент вовсе не говорит о том, что рок плох, и слушать его не следует, отнюдь - все люди разные, на кого-то и рок. И тексты песен роковых исполнителей действуют как чудесная сила.