War

Текст песни Ghostface Killah and Trife Da God - War

War Lyrics[Intro: sample]
War in the east, war in the west
War up north, war down south

[Trife Da God]
Uh, welcome to Jam-rock
Where niggas get popped, buried in sandlots
New York niggas, triple they money hitting the grand spot
West Coast bang for they colors and they demand blocks
Stuffed in niggas barbeque grillings, sizzling hamhocks
Can't forget my mid west niggas out in the Chi
St. Louis and Tennessee, where them killas is sure to ride
Shout out to my Ohio players, clocking that paper
To all them fly pimps in Detroit, rocking them gators
Riding around, with the top down, heat in the lap
Stay balling, with the plush leather seats in the back
Down in Houston, sidding sideways, chucking the deuce
Popping them bottles, getting blasted over cups of that juice
Dizzy stukes, niggas blowin' off Bobby, like Whitney Houst'
Grey goose with a touch of grapefruit, indeed, it get me loose
We need to call a truce, for all my fallen troops
Stop the warring, let's do more recording
Sit back and count this loot
[Chorus: Trife Da God (sample)]
(War in the east) To all them dealers in the tri-state
(War in the west) For all them niggas out west, raising the crime rate
(War up north) To all them killas up north, locked in the bing
(war down south) For everybody down south doing they thing, come on
(War in the east) To all my greasy east niggas getting that clock right
(War in the west) To all my jackets catching them fools at the stop lights
(War up north) To all the heavy bidders repping in jail
(War down south) To them votes, shouting the dirty south, electing that meal

[Trife Da God]
You can find me in the 'west', like Kanye, blowing on bombai
With the killas on Crenshaw, serving up entrees
Or lounging with the homies from Northstar, popping out of sportscars
Niggas wilding out in the sports bar
No matter where I go, I'm still repping New York, pa
You know we get it cracking when we up in the courtyard
Sipping on forties of Ale, pouring liquor out
For all the O.G.'s and shorties in jail
And when I'm out in the Carolinas, blessing that marijuana
Down in New Orleans, my niggas wrestling anacondas
Clapping them tools in Baton Rouge, provoking drama
Getting it crunk in Atlanta, searching for baby mommas
Philly and D.C., V.A. to B-More in a G4
I-95, making them detours
South Beach, Memorial weekend hitting the sea shore
And every other city we go, I'm promoting T-Dore
[Chorus x2]