Canción 'Thug Chronicles' del disco 'The Giancana Story' interpretada por Kool G. Rap

Thug Chronicles Letra y Canción

Kool G. Rap

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THUG CHRONICLES es una canción de Kool G. Rap del año 2002, este tema está incluido dentro del disco The Giancana Story.

LETRA

'Thug Chronicles'

Verse 1: [kool g rap]
like a don from out of sicily,
under the arm is where the pistol be,
top of ya forehead the kiss'll be,
plant ever so soft and gentle but die viscously,
hours of tortue before the torch apply misery,
days before i feel pity to give a guy liberty,
seat of his pants shitty and eyes all glittery,
i die a rich man before the fbi figure me,
40 storys up inside a high rise in italy,
no hidden forces, only natural causes deliver me,
gray hairs from the gray years the fears never shiver me,
reminiscent, how we car bombed ignitions,
and politicians, judges strong armed the listen,
men turnin up dead, or hurt, harmed an missin,
bullet proof cars and driven teflon edition,
bodys cut up and chunks stolen car drunks,
music inside the bar stunk,
gettin surrounded by bitches blowin ?some cars drunk?,
one of my stonefaced goons'll make your heart lump,
electricution with cables that make your car jump,
dr pumps, the sin with a life sentence for sellin hard junk,
the family the whole commission,
has been around since the days before prohibition,
mathematics was good then, no slow edition,
some over dosed down the coke slope and dope addiction,
lookin back on them days i ran a whole division,
some other jake in the state was tryin to throw the mission,
they caught a ticket ride to hell with no admission,
beyond these tracks,
a life of network and sippin burbon with coniac,
first version observin the stock and bonds we stacked,
the chronicles, these are the days of don g rap,

chorus: [havoc]
with, murder on his mind take it in blood,
we takin our aim at niggas throwin shit in the game,
yo, how it feel when we comin at you,
these gats blowin at you,
personally dont give a f*** where you at,
and an unfamiliar face you know we like who that,
on point nigga it aint goin down like that,
Verse 2: [kool g rap]
we do our thing underhandedly still,
tuck a mil for the family will,
mansion and hot wheels in amittyville,
treat a snitch nigga like sam when he squeal,
break the code of silence jus hand me the steal,
for every one done, a man'll be killed,
theres plans to be built, curtains and drapes,
got these jakes tryin to can me for real,
until then, be in the backyard with calm on the grill,
or catch me laid up in the canopy ill,
with 2 mommies handin me thrills,
? body vanity grills,
rubber bandin these bills,
tryin to duck the fame and the glamour,
tryin to stay from out the range of the scanners,
not tryin to get my frame in the camera,
avoid tabloids and front pages,
bumps get knocked off a bunk for favors,
collect trump papers with pumps and gauges,
royale suites when i bunk in vegas,
got homicide searching the city dump for neighbors,
pinky ring with a chunk of glacier,
cop the spot with a bunch of acres,
some of them got they bodies slung from capers,
? hat ducks and gators,
got a crib full of house maids buttlers and waiters,
my click, from the ?monoly? jump the major,
we gonna rock it till we jackpot f*** them haters,
if we have to run up in city hall and duck the mayor,
any man against the master plan can buck with crickets,
Chorus x3