Testo Foul Cats - Kool G Rap
Testo della canzone Foul Cats (Kool G Rap), tratta dall'album Roots of Evil
Foul cats schemin' out the setup
Tryin' to leave me and my team wet up
Two in the head, leaded up
Call the coroners to make they bed up
Infrared shit from neck up
Before they got to lift the TEC up
Foul cats schemin' out the setup
Tryin' to leave me and my team wet up
Two in the head, leaded up
Call the coroners to make they bed up
Infrared shit from neck up
Before they got to lift the TEC up
It was a setup
My nigga got hit, they blew his chest up
The hollow tips ripped his vest up
Son is messed up and blessed up
Call my cats up, it's time to dress up
Four-Fifth and Smith n' Wess'd up
Ready to press up and fuck a nest up
The enemy is Hennessey, the sessed up
Actin' up, hit my motherfuckin' man up
Never again will he stand up
Yo, Big Jan hook the plan up
Put on masks, pull the van up
These niggas tryin' to hit the fam up
These small times cats, yo, fuck that I can't see that
Where them niggas be at?
Where they hang at? Where they live at? Where they slang at?
(Ay-yo son, one is a known cat, he walk around with the chrome Gat)
(This hoodrat know where the nigga home at)
Well, here's a quarter, baby, go and phone that
This motherfucker 'bout to get his shit blown back
His whole dome clapped
We cocked back the gats and started cruisin'
Up the boulevards and avenues-n
I'm short fusin' and two biscuit usin'
Mad hot but, not in the mood for losin'
We hit the strip, pickin' up clues and
We on the heels of this nigga shoes and
Out the blue when we see the chick the nigga screwin'
Pushin' his whip with the ice cuban
Hemmed her up sweet, put heat to her wig piece, the Sig piece
To this nig's piece, this bitch named Charise
From East New York, listen bitch, you better talk
Or get your whole frame surrounded, with white chalk
Pulled her out a' back of the van, bitch, we don't want you
We want your man, you understand?
The ho said "Please I got his house keys
The nigga got Five ki's and Mad cheese, a hundred G's"
Lie to me bitch you gettin' one a these
Four-five C's in both knees, she said, "Honestly I promise G"
"I'm not lying," then the ho started crying
We hit the road me and my niggas flying
To the crib in Jackson Heights
The nigga live three flights up, he type buck
But I ain't givin' a fuck
Grab his bitch up
Make the ho go first in case the nigga buck
Open the door up, and put the stunt in front
Then we all started creepin'
He stretched out up on the sofa sleepin'
Yeah, me and my cats standin' there just peepin'
Money's about to get laced
My nigga Ty threw a glass a whiskey in his face
Big Jan ready to blaze the place
He on his way to Amazing Grace
Nigga woke up and saw the big guns
Me and my two sons, he knew he was done
He hurt a loved one, step back about to let him have one
Yo, fuck that, ay-yo black, where the sack of heroin at?
I'm 'bout to give cat some motherfuckin' railroad tracks
We dumped the whole bag inside a spoon and left the room to heat that
And came right back, yo grab the nigga arm black
Put raw shit in the nigga vein, watch the needle drain
Went from being restrained to mad tame
Less than a moment nigga started zonin'
His mouth foamin', lookin' like he possessed by The Omen
His bitch was reachin' for the phone and
I had to smack her with the chrome and left her on the floor moanin'
Cocked back, I had to finish this
Know my stee', we leave no witnesses
Shot and got the fuck out the premises
Foul cats schemin' out the setup
Tryin' to leave me and my team wet up
Two in the head, leaded up
Call the coroners to make they bed up
Infrared shit from neck up
Before they got to lift the TEC up
Foul cats schemin' out the setup
Tryin' to leave me and my team wet up
Two in the head, leaded up
Call the coroners to make they bed up
Infrared shit from neck up
Before they got to lift the TEC up
Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Venable, Nathaniel Thomas Wilson, Chris Moore
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