Testo Liberty Bell - DJ Clue
Testo della canzone Liberty Bell (DJ Clue), tratta dall'album The Professional 3
Ha ha
Liberty Bell
Philly stand up
Remain violent, real killers remain silent
All my niggas strapped with gats and ain't smiling
Blue steel filled with black talons
Blue blood pumped through our black hearts for malice
S.P., we be the wildest
Give us ten feet, we'll be six feet deep, don't crowd us
Don't try it, trigger finger with the callous
Stay wired, like a nose full of powder
I'm that nigga that'll snort four quarters out a dollar
Get you clipped at cost, see the boss in 'bout a hour
Like Tony, with the money and the flour
I'm a vet, have you stretched like angel in the shower
No respect for these little ass cowards
That got about twenty-four hours to live
You fucking with a real nigga
You fucking with a real killer
Yeah, Cassidy the hustler
Clue, what's going on?
Look in my face, see the pain in my eyes
I got gats that could shoot a plane out the sky
I dare y'all to say my name in your raps
I got gats that could stop a train in it's tracks
My new heater, shells big as a two liter
And it'll knock a two-seater back a few meters
'Cause I be taking shells out the box like new sneakers
Hit your top with the ten like Adidas with two heaters
Yeah nigga, my army prepared nigga
To ride when there's beef, it ain't sweet over here nigga
Get a scar from your cheek or your ear over here nigga
We air niggas out, we don't bust in the air nigga
It's like this, I could make you disappear nigga
It's just like magic with the knife or the ratchet
I'm too nice and all I'm writing is acid
I'd rather do life than be dressed nice in a casket
Bastard
Cassidy on Philly, South Street
Come on
We got it locked bitches
Me and Dro, Sig' and Clue get the pussy
Playing cops and robbers, we cop bitches
Y'all niggas pussies, detectives push all y'all start snitching
Hope God's with 'em 'cause my arms liftin' the four-four
Fresh off a world tour, king of the flow switching
I'm on a money mission, Continental four-door
That's that flying Spur, I ain't lying bruh
Cross Free, high collar, bird bullets flying war
Fuck you trying for?
We been had it cracking way before Bin Laden hit men
Hating with planes, been the bomb before Timothy McVeigh
Since back in the day I was getting work in from D.A
Still living with moms
They said I couldn't do it, why is they doubting me?
My adversaries got plans on outing me
I feel like MLK on the balcony, I'm robbing P
In an all black SL, no CLK
They using governments but they don't wanna see L spray
Freeway well known from Los Angeles to Albany
Nigga try to ride on me I body him
BC, Clue and Free, professional three, nigga
DJ Clue
Desert Storm
Ha ha
Credits
Writer(s): Leslie Pridgen, Barry Reese, Dwight Grant, Ernesto David Jr Shaw
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