Текст песни Queen Pen – I Reps

I Reps текст песни
Queen Pen

[Pen whispers "I Reps" while DJ Clue is talking]

[DJ Clue]

William nigga

Yeah!DJ Clue, Desert Storm, you know how we do things

Q-u-double-e- radio

And the question of the day,

Is who, and what you rep

Caller number 1, you on the line

[Verse 1: Prodigy]

Ayo its P, big chunky 40 inch chains

I could fuck your woman, but I perfer brains

I could duff you out wit guns and bang

I'ma certified, bonofied, Mobb Nigga man

This ain't no '87 rap battle

This is 2001, bloodsport, nigga i'll get at you

This is criminal shit, I'm so infamous

I'm so gangsta, these niggas be nervous

When we pop up, ya knees lock up

Ya stomach catch butterflies

And ya heart pumps

Suppose to be scared, suppose to be 'wared

When you see me get the fuck out my way

Nigga I'm in here

And I ain't come for the glamour and glitz

I came to fuck you up bad, get drunk, and find me a bitch

So where you at girl, holla at the kid

'Fore I slay one of these lame niggas in here, straight up

[DJ Clue]

Yeah, Caller number two

You on the line

[Verse 2: Queen Pen]

I got some raps for the streets

My niggas pack the heats

My soldiers on the corner crushin up green meat

For all the generations, and mothers ridin the trains

To work for y'all crackers, for that bullshit pay

I reps for my head that cops his weight

That take trips uptown just to cop his haze

I rep for them chicks givin brain in the rain

That ain't scared to be a freak, for the right pay

I gots to rep for my familys thats stricten wit pain

For buryin they boys to soon for this game

I rep for my panthers thats locked away

And???sittin on deathrow countin down them days

I rep for y'all bitches that work lizzie bags

That sell hot shit, half price off of tags

I rep for them chicks that write they own shit

That live just like a live, to write they own shit

Its 2001 bitch, stop frontin

I rep for my baby mamas thats still walkin

I rep for them chicks collectin P.A.&Wic

Up in the hair and nail spots makin off the book chips

I rep body snactchers, loyaly over passion

I'm married to B.S.bitch, ain't no question

[DJ Clue]

Caller number three, you on the line

[Verse 3: Cam'Ron]

I rep money dealers, girls step like, "Cam you rock a lotta Prada"

Look to her and said, "bitch I'm bout the dollar", holla

I don't like it anways, I feel enscadas hotter

One get her, get her, good dog, got her, got her

Cam is in a Lincolns Clipse

Jakes hate belevdere, now y'all drinkin the shit

Please, oh my god brother, followin is not gutter

Its a major trend setter for you cock suckers

Insurance on my diamonds, my rocks covered

If I'm wit a bitch, believe me I do not love her

I'ma rap like a doobie and spliff

My Uzi a click, yeah I did a movie a flick

But I step to the director like, "look I'm not bitchin"

Understand this homeboy, I'm not snitchin

Killa Cam still be back in the hood

Back where I should, plus I can't act that good

I could cook that coke, get them figures

I could bust that gat, strip some niggas

No homo, cause my life ain't no motion picture

Motion trigger, I open livers, cock the pump

Pop the trunk, I drive em to the ocean nigga

Peal em apart, let em know you dealin wit sharks

Killa, P-Double, Queen Pen, Lee Low

[DJ Clue]

Yeah, DJ Clue

You know how we do things

Q-U-Double E radio

And the question of the day is

What you rep