Martin Ricca

Martin Ricca - ¡Pasó! ¡Pasó! (feat. Bel lyrics

[Chorus]

Most thugs front when they get the chance (say what?)

Some thugs hit the blunt when they get the chance (say what?)

Live thugs stack chedder, then they make plans (say what?)

I, Cool J, NY2K

Rule milleniums with my compadres

They tounges sway with really nothing to say

They pack guns, but I stack funds

I'm second to none

My hot streak's just begun

You wanna bring beef? You got to serve it well-done

You ran the wrong way, now you livin' on the run

Not some, each one's a bum, every one

Coughed up a lung, became my son

Flames I brung, platinumn weighs a ton

Heavy on the chest, I pitty all the rest

I put 'em to the test

I spit it like I'm blessed

I testify

I have no need to lie

I buried many, still many wanna die

I zone out crazy, starin' don't faze me

Got ya whole strategy shook

It's too daisy

[Chorus]

Clack, relaod, clack, reload

Got ya pictures sittin' in my lap

He explode

Duck when you hear the rat-tat-tat

'Cause once you cross over baby, ain't no comin' back

Beleive that

I flows when I hit that

Strive till I get that

Never mind a set-back

No time to wet that

A lyrical hi-jack, you don't wanna try that

Creep wit' my CD, don't let 'em know you buy that

One in the snips, one in the whip with the low jack

Call a 911 to get the LL back

Original bells, LL

Rocked them till they fell

Competition bailed

Looked like mince green when mic had 'em swelled

Wrote all them rhymes and never gonna sell

Meanwhile, I'm countin' prezzies in the the 'tel

And in the meanwhile, I throw my baby in Chanelle

[Chorus]

Unh, I'm lyrically hot tonight, come on

Unh, I'm lyrically hot tonight, come on

Layin' low to catch you on stage so I can run on

Matter fact, you not on my level, I throw my son on

Mission is complete, technique is unique

Defeat the rhyme weak and mine ya knee-deep

Rewind a rip beats and give jeeps the heat

Even if you walkin', wit' ya walkman in the street

Actin' gassed up, but you really on need

How you countin' your paper kid, without a GED?

Slow down, let me do my thing now, hold up

Maybe that's the reason you stressed, quick to roll up

Put the L down, picked the other LL up

Maybe we can straighten this out before it's toe-up

Watch me closely, boom! I'm a blow-up

And spend the whole rest of my life stackin' dough up

[Chorus]

Whoo, Vinnie Biggs, you hot with this one, dawg

Roundtree

Rock The Bells

Unh, Brian Daughtery

Unh, all my peeps, my peeps, my peeps across the land

Know what I mean? we gonna keep gettin' paper

This is real

This is real, right here

Rock The Bells

It's deeper than the deepest blue sea, dawg

Know what I'm sayin'?

I'm feelin' it like you feelin' it

ha ha, word up

I'm lovin' it like you lovin' it baby

Rewind it, it's short

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