دانلود آهنگ Drop Ya Thangs از The Game

متن آهنگ Drop Ya Thangs با زبان اصلی

[Chorus]Drop ya thangs and just boxNigga just drop ya thangs and just boxNigga just drop ya thangs and just boxNigga just drop ya thangs and just box[Verse One: JT]Yo, I hit the party in my t-shirt and tennis shoesThey all watchin in they Hot Boys and church suitsActin tough in the club aint gon get you homeGettin drunk off of Patron just gon get you domedStill steppin on my shoes, boy this nigga happyThis nigga thank he Lil Jon and his partner ScrappyGoin dumb with his bitch so he dont like meThis aint the South boy, we aint crunk we go hyphyYou gotta know the rules, player let it goYou get to trippin my nigga you gotta hit the doRollin up this eight-nine gram Im tryin to make a planTuggin on yo main bitch hand, tryin to make a friendThis time for escapade only make the tec a-sprayIm in the parkin lot, standin by the EscaladeYou got a problem we aint fightin like a manOne-on-one with the Fig, get yo face in the sand, nigga[Chorus][Hook: JT]Nigga you a bitch witcho gun, snitch witcho gunStill get found in a ditch witcho gunBitch witcho gun, snitch witcho gunStill get found in a ditch witcho gun[Verse Two: JT]Yo, Fig never play with them guns, no you hear meFig aint shot nuttin up but kill spiritsFig aint the one to be, scared of the lossesOne-on-one fightin for stripes with right crossesUppercuts and heatbutts to get a head rushBitch niggaz rather kick back, and let they lead bustI been a pitbull since Fila {?} and Kenny KenUsed to chuck em by the corner sto whoever winThem was my O.G.s, and I was just a B.G.Whoever want to see me, Figgaro can {?}But now we got them old niggaz that bust with they tommyBut caught without they tommy get rushed like salamiCause everybody tired of them R.I.P.sWe bout to bring this fightin back mayne to all our streetsNow, cowards wanna pack and, killers wanna cruise andReal niggaz stand alone mayne and do what we doI wanna bust you but homey let me ask youWhy you wanna play with that gun, and make me blast youMoms all cryin and shit, she gotta ask you{?} better to save on caskets you dumb nigga[Chorus] + [Hook][Verse Three: JT]Oh boy! Old friends like to make up and get caviHell nah, she in the club witcho baby daddyShe got the coat on he bought you for yo birthday (oh no!)You kickin back, Im bout to clown him in the worst way (bitch)Team on preem like he hangin out with Pac brotherAnd you a boss for not cuttin him with the boxcutterAnd it was cool til this chick really got to trippinSpittin drink in yo face, boy she popped up pimpin (what?)Zoked out like, fat boy you cant breatheBounce back and grab that trick by her fuckin weaveBring her to the flo, teach her bout the Get LowShe gon really know, mob her on the danceflo[Chorus] + [Hook][JT]Yeah I gotta acknowledge them fo carloads of HP niggazthat came to Fillmoe for yall one-on-ones mayne, and yall got it mayneNiggaz put the guns down and after that nigga it was real bigThey get stripes for that, nigga, special shoutout niggato them three young Sunnydale niggazNigga that was surrounded by ten Fillmoe niggaz mayneAnd all yall wanted was one-on-ones and yall got it niggaStripes for that![Chorus] + [Hook][ Drop Ya Thangs Lyrics ]

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