Team Napalm - Da Score текст песни

Все тексты песен Team Napalm

[Chorus: Dom Pachino]I run in the spot, observe the whole placeAlert the Team, it's about to take placeKeep my eyes on the safe, security's weakAnd surveillance is out dated[Chapel]Yo, it's the N, to the A, to the P, to the AL-MRoll the arsenal for all sorts of dilligent menWe up against, boy you know they past tenseUh-huh, double up, more CREAM to spendIt's a war zone, that's why your clips is stemFor the soft MC's, we the ones that you commendUse our courage of strength, to wash away the past tenseDarts more sharp than the picket wired fenceOnly way I lay a rhyme if the words make senseUnderscore worldwide, I guess it all dependsHow we run wild, hitting cats, or we offendRock they jaw, then sparks up a weapon to det'Pulling swords, don't matter, if you try and preventIt's because of big tragedy, criminal attemptsAlways know the verbs, from the mouth that I preventFire camouflage, ammo, when you hide our trench[Dom Pachino]You can rush success, it travel at it's own rateSo I rock harder than a stone gateI'm gangsta, nigga, like Capone in his stateA mind, I design, Napalm, the

Team hold weightCreate the machine, the green flow greatSee these MC's won't wait with they hands outWe pull the hammers out, redeme you're aggreing by a large amountNow you wanna talk it out? I'mma let my work speak for itselfIf I had no Team, then I'd do it for delfYou can catch my shit on the shelf, in the local mom & pop storesCuz I got the raw, let the smokers in the hood be fiending forThis is Team Napalm and we pulling a score[NLZ]Yo, I laid in the trench with M-16With a jacket, full of metal for my Napalm TeamAir a soldier, stealth bomb, fifty cal' toastersDo it like a soldier, on a mission, it's suppose toMy niggas hold fort, I keep my enemies closerThey like ashes camo' for the metal rub lotionOops, I mean potion, I show no loveI get acquited for the murder like the OJ gloveBlow a dub of 'dro stemi', eyes low, stay redSwig a little, still reserved, take it straight to the headKid bugged out, niggas get rubbed out, I'm thuggingMy rims too big, in your wheel, real brotherI'm too stubborn, yo, he don't hold weight, get off my cornerBefore something make your head deflate[Chorus]

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