paroles de chanson Boo Hoo Hoo - Bun B , Haystak

Big Stak, baby
A.k.a, Rap Money
N' I ain't goin' nowhere, these bitches'll never run me off the set
Like, I done seen 'em run a lotta cowards up, outta here
Believe dat shit
Uhhh

Nah, I ain't lyin', I ain't cryin'
I ain't sheddin' a tear
I ain't braggin' 'bout bein hard, I'm just bein' sincere
Through the years, I steer clear, ah snakes and banana peels
You could be surprised, how quick they kill ya, in Nashville
Just, for havin' a lil more money than 'em
Some people coulda lived, if they woulda gave up they rims
Fuck them! You gon' have to kill me, for these car keys
Don't try to rob me, just go on, n' off me
Pop me!
They always said, I was stubborn,
I ain't some spoon fed hoochie, that was raised in the suburbs
I'm from right down the block, where they soul hovered
N', if ya daddy didn't work, there was no supper
I bet, I die like a man, I ain't gon' lay on my stomach
I'ma know, for a fact, that some real killas done it
When ya, look me in my eyes, I'ma mug ya, and tell ya, fuck ya
Dude, I ain't even no gangsta, but I ain't gon' cry...

(Boo Hoo Hoo) Bitch!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Faggot!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Trick!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Quit cryin', Ho!

(Boo Hoo Hoo) Bitch!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Faggot!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Trick!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Quit cryin', Ho!

I hear a whole lotta, tough talkin', slick speakin'
Direct it towards me, you gon' see some quick leakin' (Man)
'Cause, I'm too old, to let a nigga, hit me where it hurt (Fo' real)
And, I'm too young, to let a nigga, lay me in the dirt
Ya flirtin' wit disaster, and teasin' it, too (Too)
Talkin' down, when ya see some real G's, in the room (Room)
Gotta long reputation, took years to build (Build)
N', I don't think, I woke up this mornin', to get killed (Killed)
Not by a bitch, like you, I know that
If God sent ya, for me, then you gon' have to show that (So big)
'Cause, I ain't scared to meet my maker, when He call
But, when the reaper come, he ain't comin', wit none ah y'all (Naw)
You gon' need a pack ah gorillas, if not (?)
If you plan on puttin' holes through this (?) (?) sweater
Playa, ya better, change ya gears,
'Fore I have ya family and friends,
In black clothes, exchangin' tears, cryin'...

(Boo Hoo Hoo) Bitch!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Faggot!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Trick!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Quit cryin', Ho!

(Boo Hoo Hoo) Bitch!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Faggot!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Trick!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Quit cryin', Ho!

I may never, sell no records, in Japan or Bangkok
But, you'll never hear me cryin' bout, possessions, I ain't got
Just, had to accept the fact, that I ain't pop
As long as, the underground, love it, I can't stop
Just, happy to have, the things I got
N', I'm hardcore, don't think, I'm not
Don't think, I'm soft, 'cause, I ain't been shot
Don't think, I'm cool, my shit, is pipin' hot
And, I may never resign, wit a powerhouse
I do a hundred thousand, when I put a album out
Pound for pound, I'm down, to clown
Any clown, that has any doubts, 'bout the way I get down
In town, and outta town, love is love
When they pass me, in traffic, they throw up the dub
I get 'em riled up, n' make 'em, tear da club up
Club owner, cryin', Boy, shut the fuck up! Ya sound like...

(Boo Hoo Hoo) Bitch!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Faggot!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Trick!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Quit cryin', Ho!

(Boo Hoo Hoo) Bitch!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Faggot!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Trick!
(Boo Hoo Hoo) Quit cryin', Ho!

BITCH!!!
FAGGOT!!!
TRICK!!!
QUIT CRYIN', HO!!!

BITCH!!!
FAGGOT!!!
TRICK!!!
QUIT CRYIN', HO!!!