Překlad: CRU. To Shit.
, rollin wit Cru Beileve in my music like an Orthodox Jew Believes in his religion and the skills that I rip [w/Mighty Ha] THAT SHIT THAT SHIT THAT SHIT
really want none. Don't let them suckas fool ya. Bustas won't do too much [Nigga ain't really want none.]. I'll knock you out. That dumb shit comin'
Yo, legend, what's good, legend, what's going on? (Yo, we gotta do the intro over and all that, right?) Ice H2O (Ight, keep all that, keep all that)
Ight, now, this is how we gon' do this shit You know what I'm saying? Niggaz wasn't out in the streets back then When was doing this shit son, you know
sit and stay The only thing I'ma miss Is riding on you niggaz with a 5th of some Grand Cru while blowin' on a spliff Shit, but I ain't tryna grip, the
Add that shit up, D R E right back up on top of thangs Smoke some with your dog No stress, no seeds, no stems, no sticks Some of that real sticky icky
That smokin' so much weed that I start hearin' shit Aiyo, fuck is that shit yo (What) You hear that shit (What?) Don't fuck with me, ya niggas hear that shit
a, Death List, and shit This'll be, Kenyatta's Escape, Kenyatta's Last Hit Crime Partners, he and Ken' was Till one day they spark that traum up and
close casket, made a son a bastard Got to stay strapped but the Cru is comin' back Oh, shit, all hell breakin' loose Instead I should of went to that
lethally till he suffocate Lifeless but step into this shit that's priceless I cut the life force, now I'm on the right course I stifle, those that pop shit
C R U, we makin' that cream People always sayin' what the hell do rap mean Rhythm Blunt Cru, we makin' that cream People always sayin' what the hell do
2 C R U, C R U, bubblin', bubblin' I be that lay back loungin' from the Lafayette Ave. Talkin' mad lip an' shit that ain't my style Makin' mad chips an' I shall proceed An' I gets busy, that
hood way Or the fun can turn to guns and it could spray But that's the way of the concrete jungle Walk humble, ya be ready to gun bumble 'Cuz it's real like that
after bakee, blunt after blunt Smoke a bag of buhdah and became bitche's with the skunk Nat King Cole was a merry old soul Made you move that ab, drop shit
kickin' that shit the beat ain't gonna matter Lox and Cru, el familiar to you So if you want it you can get the 60 shot pronto Sheek that kid that spit
like that, yo, like that, yo And if you ask what's in your mouth, it's my fat ballz Yo, crazy legit the ill shit's necessary To make you dance ya ass
hesitate, shoot me, stabbin' you (True) That's aight, every night they be blowin' Keep their glock hot while we keep the cash flowin' It's another Cru that
