Представляем точный текст композиции "Cabbage Savage" и глубже погружаем в смыслы творчества артиста Concentration Camp II . Эта интерпретация слов песни помогает лучше понять смысл заложенный в композицию. Лирика «Cabbage Savage» — это не просто строчки, а история, которую Concentration Camp II передаёт через ритм и интонации. Изучайте переводы, оригинальные версии и толкования, чтобы раскрыть все грани этого трека.
Concentration Camp II - "Cabbage Savage"
Lyrics to Cabbage Savage : [Talking] Whats Happenin the grawl nitty camped out nigga The halocaust in 98 playa We the sickess all the time on the grind All they got to do is say when nigga If you in the way you just gone get rolled on believe that You think Im playin with you let me show u something [C-Loc] Where its at nigga, where its at nigga Where the dope at nigga with my mug on Concentration camp savage bout his cabbage in the war zone Down to break a jaw bone you hustlers know that sound Central booking for fucking round whoa now In a city where black folks wanna holla Cause the white folks dont wanna see a nigga with a dollar But we still on the highway trying to get the dope back by friday Can careless bout what the fucking feds say [Lay Lo 1] Camp affiliated so start antiating gats nigga Plated or black nigga Aint taking no more stacks bitch We breaking your back Im making your scrash for me We say its simple and plan cuz thats the way it has to be I grab my thang and blast for you, you grab your shit and blast for me And we get mixed up in some mess we cause catasterfee A nigga cant get mad at you if he dont get mad at me Now we passing the microphone like we used to pass the weed [Lay Lo 2] Aight nigga we got business to attend to as a bitches gone surrender Country side gangster shit nigga, and we weigh cigars Me and my nigga chopping streets like a butcher With thangs in seat cushions Fuck a ghetto rap pushers We beefing with haters and tryin to come up off of these sacks Gave up my everyday nina fina for these raps And if these tracks, dont get my shit on swole I aint got nothin to loose, nigga we ready to fold [Chorus x2: Young Bleed] You do it savage nigga You bout that cabbage nigga Fuck, you gotta have it nigga Addition to the habbit nigga Want it better grab it nigga Adjust to livin lavage nigga Hustlin just a habbit and keep it hopin like a rabitt nigga [Lucky Knuckles] Let me know if ya ready To show Im down for confedi Aint got no time for the fake niggas sippin hot ones in they belly This shit gets heavy for me, tru playas hustle for cheese Respect the young nigga mind Im only out to get me I aint got time for that bull-shit, frontin you get dunked on I live by the streets, never leave my home, without my crome (Nigga) [Young Bleed] So what you wanna do with a ill matic, phyco-patic Nappy nigga causin static I hope you ready for steady stackin fedi, cause it dont stop with me Everytime I doubt on my dough somebody (bitches) watchin me I play it like it gotta be Mashin in a high phillosophy Runnin in it get it hollin what u got for me, (Nigga) [C-loc] Fuck that frontin bitch I feel like killing something Something aint my thing so Im a bang if I hear em mumble Bumble like a baby known to beat a bitch to death Or grab them things and make em range on the last nigga left Dear God up in heaven, why must I all ways think of 211s And 187s please help this felon Makes his way back to the spot without gettin popped Or snatched up out local cots and doing life like my pops [Boo the Boss Playa] Nigga, how you gettin your money, huh, slow or fast I got 160 on the dash 500 on the ass, S class Fuckin round with them hood rat tramps Tryin to lead them hoes back to the camp, (so i can set it out for sho) If you a freak bitch, then let it out All my playa partnas dont mind, throwing up in your mouth You see that arrow pointed towards the bottom, we call it the south 4 silly birds 500 an ounce [Leetyme] Drop the chesse in the cage with 30 hungry gorillas Who the last to snatch, who you callin a killa The smell of blood of my enemy make my dick like stone Wanna leave him dying alone then jackin off with his own Look at me my back by the wounds of your whip Look at me Im spyin on the woman you split And these niggas so trippin, so busy playa hatin me When them folks done gripped and got your mammy in the streets [Chorus x2] [ Cabbage Savage Lyrics ]
Содержание трека помогает не только запомнить любимые строки, но и ощутить связь с Concentration Camp II. Возможно, вы заметите, как лирика «Cabbage Savage» 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 «Cabbage Savage» — каждая строчка здесь обретает новый смысл.