You're Fuckin' With BC - Body Count

You're Fuckin' With BC - Body Count

Альбом
Violent Demise: The Last Days
Год
1996
Язык
`English`
Длительность
209000

Below is the lyrics of the song You're Fuckin' With BC , artist - Body Count with translation

Lyrics " You're Fuckin' With BC "

Original text with translation

You're Fuckin' With BC

Body Count

The ill niggas!

You’re fuckin with the

kill niggas!

You’re fuckin with the

hard liquor!

You’re fuckin with the

bitch dickas!

You’re fuckin with the

cash makin, life takin, overlord,

street hustlin, quick bustin, snitch dustin,

body dumpin, gauge pumpin,

clean dresser, mic blesser, shallow

graves are in the desert,

fuckin with my niggas from the Central,

why?

You’ll die!

I can make ya missin fuckin with

the unforgiven,

cop killer, blood spiller, but still a

million seller.

Run and tell your fuckin mother,

Body Count is on the cover,

of Murder Monthly, bitch best back up

off me.

You’re fuckin with BC.

You’re fuckin with BC.

You’re fuckin with BC.

Do you know who you’re fuckin with?

Ghetto dwellin, drug sellin, pussy suckin,

hard fuckin,

drive by’n, do or die’n, bitch smackin,

cash stackin,

switch hittin, game spittin, hustlin’s how I

make my livin,

hit ridin, pit fightin, motherfuckin street

titan.

Gang related, frustated, gun tote’n, ran-

some note’n,

park muggin, born thuggin, jewelry wear-

er, hood terror.

Steppin’s where you made your error,

now you’re bleedin, heart speedin.

Now you feel your life leavin,

Yo, your fuckin mom’s grievin.

The ill niggas!

The kill niggas!

Benz mashin, club crashin, high fashion,

jewelry bashin,

child snatcher, hoe catcher, neck slasher.

Mic rippin, set trippin, coke boilin,

gun oil’n,

car jackin, head crackin, bank robbin,

roof jobbin,

laser scope’n, hostage ropin,

known to get your safe open,

shoot you in your back nigga,

the hair trigga.

Banana clip loader, LAPD get my

fuckin folder,

known killer, jaw sweller, feds dug up

my fuckin cellar.

Drama maker, law breaker, violent talker,

pig stalker,

Shot gunner, drug runner, blowin up this

fuckin summer.

Handgrenade’n, home invadin, vest

wearin, cold starin,

Body Count the street vets, known to get

your chest wet!

Do you know who you’re fuckin with?

The ill niggas!

You’re fuckin with the

kill niggas!

You’re fuckin with the

hard liquor!

You’re fuckin with the

bitch dickas!

Do you know who you’re fuckin with?

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