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    Текст песни Concentration Camp - Cabbage Savage

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    Слова песни:
    [Talking]
    Whats Happenin the grawl nitty camped out nigga
    The halocaust in 98 playa
    We the sickess all the time on the grind
    All they got to do is say when nigga
    If you in the way you just gone get rolled on believe that
    You think I'm playin with you let me show u something
    [C Loc]
    Where its at nigga where its at nigga
    Where the dope at nigga with my mug on
    Concentration camp savage bout his cabbage in the war zone
    Down to break a jaw bone you hustlers know that sound
    Central booking for fucking 'round whoa now
    In a city where black folks wanna holla
    Cause the white folks don't wanna see a nigga with a dollar
    But we still on the highway trying to get the dope back by friday
    Can careless 'bout what the fucking feds say
    [Lay Lo 1]
    Camp affiliated so start antiating gats nigga
    Plated or black nigga
    Aint taking no more stacks bitch
    We breaking your back
    I'm making your scrash for me
    We say its simple and plan cuz thats the way it has to be
    I grab my thang and blast for you, you grab your shit and blast for me
    And we get mixed up in some mess we cause catasterfee
    A nigga can't get mad at you if he don't get mad at me
    Now we passing the microphone like we used to pass the weed
    [Lay Lo 2]
    Aight nigga we got business to attend to as a bitches gone surrender
    Country side gangster shit nigga, and we weigh cigars
    Me and my nigga chopping streets like a butcher
    With thangs in seat cushions
    Fuck a ghetto rap pushers
    We beefing with haters and tryin to come up off of these sacks
    Gave up my everyday nina fina for these raps
    And if these tracks, don't get my shit on swole
    I ain't got nothin to loose, nigga we ready to fold
    [Chorus- Young Bleed] x 2
    You do it savage nigga
    You 'bout that cabbage nigga
    Fuck, you gotta have it nigga
    Addition to the habbit nigga
    Want it better grab it nigga
    Adjust to livin lavage nigga
    Hustlin just a habbit and keep it hopin like a rabitt nigga
    [Lucky Knuckles]
    Let me know if ya ready
    To show I'm down for confedi
    Ain't got no time for the fake niggas sippin hot ones in they belly
    This shit gets heavy for me, tru playas hustle for cheese
    Respect the young nigga mind I'm only out to get me
    I ain't got time for that bull-shit, frontin you get dunked on
    I live by the streets, never leave my home, without my crome (Nigga)
    [Young Bleed]
    So what you wanna do with a ill matic, phyco-patic
    Nappy nigga causin static
    I hope you ready for steady stackin fedi, cause it don't stop with me
    Everytime I doubt on my dough somebody (bitches) watchin me
    I play it like it gotta be
    Mashin in a high phillosophy
    Runnin in it get it hollin' what u got for me, (Nigga)
    [C-loc]
    Fuck that frontin bitch I feel like killing something
    Something ain't my thing so I'm a bang if I hear' em mumble
    Bumble like a baby known to beat a bitch to death
    Or grab them things and make' em range on the last nigga left
    Dear God up in heaven, why must I all ways think of 211s
    And 187s please help this felon
    Makes his way back to the spot without gettin popped
    Or snatched up out local cots and doing life like my pops
    [Boo the Boss Playa]
    Nigga, how you gettin your money, huh, slow or fast
    I got 160 on the dash
    500 on the ass, S class
    Fuckin 'round with them hood rat tramps
    Tryin to lead them hoes back to the camp, (so i can set it out for
    sho)
    If you a freak bitch, then let it out
    All my playa partnas don't mind, throwing up in your mouth
    You see that arrow pointed towards the bottom, we call it the south
    4 silly birds 500 an ounce
    [Leetyme]
    Drop the chesse in the cage with 30 hungry gorillas
    Who the last to snatch, who you callin a killa
    The smell of blood of my enemy make my dick like stone
    Wanna leave him dying alone then jackin off with his own
    Look at me my back by the wounds of your whip
    Look at me I'm spyin on the woman you split
    And these niggas so trippin, so busy playa hatin me
    When them folks done gripped and got your mammy in the streets
    [Chorus] x 2
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