Letras Rolling 200 Deep VI - Dj Kay Slay, Kid Capri, Bynoe

Rolling 200 Deep VI

300 niggas, you still can’t get in my league\nIf it’s on sight, I’m still gon' pull out a squeeze\nAnd you know where my gang is at\nMan, the only borough that got there where the name is at\nThis ain’t the place for a nigga to front\nI seen a rapper get killed after doing his publicity stunt\nHad he rather stay with it, even pray with it\nGo and kill an opp and than tell the cops the AK did it\n200 deep, 200 player for keeps\n200 animals eating like 200 cannibals\n200 reasons why you gonna need 200 guys\n200 times for 200 miles, this is why\nI’m 200 with everything that I do\nKid Capri undisputed, party rock is the truth\n200 millions worth, I’m thinking when they’ll step in the booth\n200 people gonna stop me when I’m 200 proof, 200 deuce\nYou aged, you skin as Cack\nGot the muffle on the mack\nStill keep a scalpel close, I rip a nigga\nGymnastic tryouts, I get to flipping niggas\n2−1-3, go why clipping niggas?\nAt the playoff P, whip the yo in the pot\nCaught me made off beat, you not a shooter\nYou a stand sucker-ass groupie\nOh, you fly, you got shot, that Dapper Dan Gucci\nType of God to rip a rapper whole skull off\nRollin' like a bowling ball, down to grand on course\nY’all on force, spittin' bars in your pink drawers\nMy 45, put your paragraphs in the mall\nA fucking shooter out the backboard, James Harden\nPros cook, ladies come, taste big sausage\nThey work, Play can’t do it, 'cause they teeth rotten\nI tell a limo driver, bomb, I’ma keep shot\nYo, a certain type of nigga ain’t gon' like this\nYou rather die, niggas almost die, they ain’t ride six\nOnce you pick a side, you gotta stay in it\nYou can’t side switch, you out here fuckin' with everybody\nLike a fly bitch, they say if the shoe fit, wear it\nI say take this all out and make this size fit\nTurn to conditions, it’s in the fineprint\nIt’s King Card, you niggas still call me «Call, switch»\nIce box between the look in my armpit\nOn it at the West Coast\nThe ballin' motherfucker named Green Thumb\nI got the pack game locked if you need some\nAnother payday, don’t care about what they say\nRollin' up the bully, we the flavors with Kay Slay\nIt’s a mayday, mayday, you goin' down\nI’m on vacay workin' on my third round\nYou take L’s but I smoke 'em\nHe was talkin' really loud until I broke 'em\nAyo, 200 niggas on the track\n198 niggas gettin' bodied, that’s facts\nWinners smoke clear and be gruffin' spit\nWe the zone, holdin' throne, niggas fuck my dick\nSouthport stands with my medal in hand\nAin’t a bitch with a hand, don’t let me off the blam\nDrug money, federal scams, bad bitch gettin' hand a lamb\nGruffle gangsta, you know who I am\nRollin' 200 deep, why would I do that?\nWhen these rappers get shot and won’t shoot back\nWho that, streaming murder, I don’t believe you\nKay say «Slay, you niggas, I won’t leave you»\nWho gon' be the next sayin' «Rest in Peace"to\nGo 'head, nigga, act tough, I don’t need no backup\nBut don’t get wrapped up before the yearly rap-up\nAnd don’t be the one that’s getting stitched and patched up\nI only got ace, so I’ma get straight to it\nLike, if I put the barrel in your face, you know I’m gon' use it\nEver shows you love, better not abuse it\nI speak true lango, this is more than music\nI got that Godfather flow, dawg, wonder Marko\n200 deep, but I’m using solo bolo\nPhoto mack Kodak, you know my mack is black\nWhy them suckers play the front, real niggas in the back