lirik lagu tank - club
[mac]
no limit black sheep, played the back seat for months
stayed away from the tanqueray, b-tches and blunts
still mac n-gga, ain’t nothin changed
got the rings and the gold chains
now b-tches wanna know my whole name
i penetrate em, then i disintegrate em
i let the next n-gga date em, cuz i don’t hate em
i spit voodoo, to the most hard to get hoes
and at the end of the night, i rippin off clothes
you f-ckin with the realest, from lyrical spillers
to k!llers and dealers and cap peelers, and street guerillas
from villians to chillers, we made millions
and paid k!llers to protect scrilla
so what the f-ck you talk about winners?
you hear that word camouflage when you hear my name
i represent the sh-ll shocked cuz it’s in my veins
(no limit soldier) is on my left arm, i took it in blood
throw your hood up if you a thug
and all them n-ggas say
[chorus – mac]
(woah!)
you see a soldier on the streets holler
(woah!)
you hear them soldiers on them beats holler
(woah!)
every time them soldiers speak holler
(woah!)
[kane & abel]
load your weapons, grab your gats
we sprinkle daily verbs over tracks
hit the chest like heart attacks
when my lyrical hammer c-ck back
and leave bullet holes in your bourbons and ‘lacs
the only thing we give them hoes is a d-ck and a smack
gangstafied kane & abel you know the camouflage -ss-ssin
blastin and mashin, kidnappin and head bashin
razor blade slashin, the endo blunt p-ssin
for the cash and, woah it’s bout to happen
what you want (?) ugly with that 223
hit em up in 3-d, now it’s banned from tv
n-ggas playa hated, i sho hated
spark the weed, cremated
see this game, we regulated
[mr. serv-on]
n-gga, you know me
the n-gga that spell everything out? (nah)
the n-gga that’ll run through your motherf-ckin set and bang
your hoe motherf-ckin out (f-ck yeah n-gga)
the n-gga that’s catchin these n-ggas and beatin em down
cuz they wearin tanks, they don’t know what the f-ck it mean
n-gga, that’s the f-ck, that’s about punchin your f-ckin mouth
the n-gga that’ll tear the club up
n-gga, i don’t give a f-ck if you bangin or slangin
n-gga when i put this tank up n-gga you get rowdy as the f-ck
but if you think i was gonna leave this motherf-cker without
spellin a line
k-l you done lost your motherf-ckin mind
stop the track cuz these n-ggas don’t know about my cl!ck black
i down with the m to the a to the c
it’s the s to the e to the r to the v
f-ckin with the t to the a to the n to the k
and when i come through motherf-cker and i raise my tank up high
you best believe some a you coward motherf-ckers gon die
[chorus]
[big ed]
n-gga what i claim?
n-gga i claim tru!
i hang with n-ggas that’s k!llas with tru tatoos
i got my name big ed from what i put between hips
i got my name -ss-ssin from the way i empty out clips
wear the no limit soldier, thuggin at heart
hittin n-ggas with throw aways when i toss em i break em apart
n-ggas get your guns up if you rowdy
and when -ss-ssin hit the stores, buy the album if you bout it
bout it
[snoop dogg]
rowdy gangsta in this motherf-cker, loco
so i can come through and keep it tru and do what the f-ck i
must
i bust, i keep it tru from the ‘ginnin
snoop dogg, the representer from long beach city
a tru tank dog, bank y’all in y’all face
if y’all try to come close, y’all can’t run this race
i place my self above the stack
with my homeboys mac and sack you fact, we strap for strap
we got your back, don’t even flip out or trip out
or dip out, these n-ggas lookin at me strange
my game to maintain, i let it go, i sell it don’t tell it
y’all can’t touch it motherf-cker, or bail it, for real
[mia x]
biggest mama, drama two guns here i come
put down for my last son, the camouflaged one
mac the don, get your shine on cuz it’s your time
and i’ma get my rhyme on and spit like nine
c-cked nine millimeters the ghetto diva
mia x-rated, golden platinum plated
face it, when they hear me on the k-l track
all them n-ggas grab they head and jump back
hollin woah cuz it’s goin down like lips to d-ck
i’m so tight i make you b-tches never wanna see the mic
and spit, the matter lesson rhymes next to mine
i’m mama superior, you hoes is fearin the
lyrical warfare i exhale
some fake b-tches like you name is mel
battle anybody, hip hop or glock
on tru i’ma close your shop, woah
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