Представляем точный текст композиции "Dead The Funeral" и глубже погружаем в смыслы творчества артиста Camron . Эта интерпретация слов песни помогает лучше понять смысл заложенный в композицию. Лирика «Dead The Funeral» — это не просто строчки, а история, которую Camron передаёт через ритм и интонации. Изучайте переводы, оригинальные версии и толкования, чтобы раскрыть все грани этого трека.
Camron - "Dead The Funeral"
Lyrics to Dead The Funeral : Killa For leaf big blowgun, fag niggas bitch, doj an Peach chrome, sick Rover, Zeke home so bend over He looked at me and said "Killa Ill be your kitchen pitcher, the bid was rough" I said nigga I did the bid with ya Capiche, not Mona Lisa its the big picture Six scriptures, six blickers, grip triggers, strip niggaz The Big Dipper, swig liquor, big liver Now that you home watch the shit differ, I dig nigga Soon as a nigga whisper, believe we jiggin Jigga He Elton Brand in a barber chair, hell get the Clippers I dont care who you are, the point, dont be stupid pa We celebrities with guns, shooting stars Yeah remove ya bras, a few of ours in through-in cars Spray 21, Blackjack, I knew ya cards Kid roll, Peter Rowe like Kennedy Friends with me at the graveyard, visits from old enemies Some bitched, some snitched, some owed us dough Piss on the tombstone, write on it, "Told you so" Check my portfolio, I was poor then rose to dough KNow what Im about in a drought I score, overflow Im the waterboy, wet work for water call The price is nice, TLC, some waterfalls Fiends snort it all, this fact I report to yall Go inside, extort them all, from short to tall you oughta ball And where the ballas live and all my friends all to win This the second time around, that shit you call again Damn yo lady fine, you been on yo baby grind Me Im 86, highest temp, P-89s Everyday we shine, fine, dont pay me mind My watches are retarded, you can call em crazy times Mines are more than brothers We gon rock til the Range, Benz, and Porsches clutter Garage, assorted colors Yeah Crayola box, for that, payola doc Ill lay you over a stroller with the strangest odor ock Is it over not, huh, we immune to you We shoot the wake up, striaght up and dead the funeral Ay yo hold the fuck up I said we gon shoot the wake up and dead the fu- You dead already we gon dead the fu- Matter fact son, bring that shit back up, fuck it And you heard Rell, I do worst than foul They murdered Roberta, lawyer murdered murder trials We deserve to style, walk on Persian tile On the island with millions, Durst to Al I get cake in layers, not the Daily News But when I flip, I make the papers, hate the mayor Im a gangsta, I fuck ma, go date a player Man these dudes are fish market, straight fillet ya Went to war with Kromo, then Pataki Then Guilliani, then I went to North Cackalacky What you gon tell a mobster, cake was hella proper No Petey Pablo when I saw them helicopters Thats the letter niggaz, trinckets from the ghetto bird Her word said I gave the whole ghetto birds Man your case go find it, need a new assignment That aint giving out, first of all thats call for silent Contest to play You got no gunwounds, jail time, felonies, real shit on your resume I get you extra yay, not tomorrow, yesterday If they ask, never say, snitch and we never play, ay [ Dead The Funeral Lyrics ]
Содержание трека помогает не только запомнить любимые строки, но и ощутить связь с Camron. Возможно, вы заметите, как лирика «Dead The Funeral» перекликается с вашим опытом, или найдёте ответы на давние вопросы. Эта страница создана для ценителей музыки: здесь вы сохраните текст для личного использования, поделитесь им с друзьями или используете в творчестве. Погружайтесь в мир слов композиции «Dead The Funeral» — каждая строчка здесь обретает новый смысл.