Текст песни NONPOINT - Tribute

comeon, come on!

thats right, nonpoint, darwin's, Grimm in the house lemme hear that shit

Heeeere we go...

Once upon a time not long ago When people wore pajamas and lived life slow When laws were stern and justice stood And people was behavin' like they are too good There lived a little boy who was misled By a little boy and this is what he said, check it ";Me and you kid we gonna make some cash, Robbin' old folks and makin' the dash..."; Their jackets tied, money came wit' ease But one couldn't stop, it's like he had a disease He jacked another and another, Michael Jackson, Stevie Wonder stick up, stick up, stick up, stick up The kid got wild startin' actin' erratic He said I Got you all in check,
Yah Yah Yah Yah Yah
come on
Источник https://alllyr.ru/song46649
Yah Yah Yah Yah Yah
come on
Yah Yah Yah Yah Yah
come on
Yah Yah Yah Yah Yah

When I step up in da place and yo I step correct, WOO-HAH!! I Got you all in check,
I got dat head nod shit dat make you break yo neck,
WOO-HAH!! Got you all in check,
Well you know we come through to wreck the disco tech,
Throw ya hands up in da air and never disrespect,
WOO-HAH!! Got you all in check.

YO grimm!
whats up?
Which mutha fucka stole my flow?
Eenie, meenie, minie, moe,
Throw them type of niggas right out my window,
Blast yo ass, hit you with a direct blow,
BLA!! Comin through like G.I.Joe,
Star Wars movie deal like Han Solo,
Make you bounce around like this was calypso,
Always shine cause I got the high pro glow,
You think that you can hide, you think you can lay low?
Roll up on your ass like Hawaii 5-0,
Mad out wit my dreads in my Kangol,
Forget da Moet nigga, just bash the Cisco,
YO! Take a trip down to Mexico,
Comeback wit dat shit dat might make you psyco,
Maximum frequencies through that stereo,
Sorry this is it but homeboy, I got to go!

yo, where you go where you at bring it back!
props to all my people on the hip hop scene who going fast than me
with abrushima my inspiration from youth killa beee got loose.

dont be teared dotn be mad, just give it the truth
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man
M-E-T, H-O-D, Man

Break yourself nigga!
Hey you get off my clooud
Let me get raw with my southpaw style
Mover, puffin' on a fat blunt from Cuba
It's the Meth-Tical jet to Cal, I'm the buddha Monk on the hunt for machine gun foes
I keeps you open like a slug from the shotgun punk
Double-barrel, yeah Meth bring it to them proper
Partner, you ain't got no wins in me casa
Straight up, you movin' too fast so baby wait up
Took one, added seven more now you eight up
Get on down wit' your bad self
Get on down, listen to the sound, come on

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