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    Текст песни Dj Honda - Out For The Cash

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    Слова песни:
    featuring Al Tariq The Beatnuts Fat Joe & Problemz

    Hook:
    We want it all so we out for the cash
    Life's too short so we gotta live fast
    Gotta keep it real get the doe and that's that
    Before we go out you know we gotta live phat
    "5 deadly venoms on wax"

    Al' Tariq:
    I break 'em down like cheers tear for fears from the ave
    Tariq whatever you seek baby you shall
    Be given to ya deliver to ya
    Posses asses we movin' around up in the chest no less
    I keep the minds straight organize and raise above these fake spies
    Like Organize now these guys are frontin' talking about blastin' and
    lootin'
    Niggas slashin' shit but son son who ya foolin'?
    My nigga don't ever get no bigger than your britches
    You know the old sayin' daddy uh, stitches and ditches
    For snitches
    So pour out the D.P. and pass the Moe Moe
    And clean you imagination of that fake funk flow

    Psycho Les:
    Kill the noise your funk is unsented
    This track is splended Honda wanted me to represent it (yo who?)
    The P.S.Y.C.H.O. deep between the lines of yayo
    Son you fake a jack push your wig back like Burt Renoylds
    Even when I'm stressed I keep my chin up like Jay Leno
    Bring it to any fuckin' morano
    Latino bag 'em, for they casino

    Hook

    JuJu:
    I'm back son I know it's been a while but whatever
    I'm terror undoubtedly more violent then ever
    I'm out here gettin' money more ways then three
    I can't see these clown niggas more paid then me
    You crazy it takes one look you'll determine
    That you wouldn't dare fuck around with this German
    The life or dead kids incredible Fed bids heroin dreams
    And wild schemes my heads deep

    Fat Joe:
    Who gives a fuck about the opposition?
    My position is far from fiction
    I started bitches seeing cream from all these fiends
    With large addictions partner listen
    I been doin' this shit for years endin' careers
    Bringin' Max back from the ten cheers yeah
    So don't consider beefin'
    I get rid of even the largest rap artist while the niggas sleepin'
    Keepin' the street sweeper close
    Cause niggas who lac-tose
    Subtrack the grim reaper the most

    Hook

    Problemz:
    It goes a one Mississippi two Mississippi three G
    With all them motherfuckin' I's (eyes) niggas couldn't see
    P.R.O.B., L.E.M.Z. with the verbal tactics
    This ghetto bastard gets you bouncin' like a matress
    I'm all that not to sound conceited
    But I'm undefeated
    Handin' out nuff knots (nots) like Ripley so you better believe it
    A dedicatated underground representitive
    Rugged instramentals get me hyped and give me insentitive
    To blow up the spot like Waco Texas
    When I flex this crusty MC's get corroded like espestis
    On some next shit but it's just the Brooklyn comin' out out me
    I'm one of the ruggedest niggas alive
    There ain't no pussy parts about me
    Word is born this shit is on in your area
    Problemz representin', mass hysteria
    The kid from BK who rock the diamond studded crowns
    Comin' directly from Flatbush poppo now hold that down

    Hook
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