paroles de chanson Come Get It - Lord Have Mercy , DJ Hurricane , Rah Digga , Rampage
Hurricane's
in
the
house.
Land-Lord,
up
in
the
house
COME
GET
IT
Rah
Digga,
up
in
the
house
COME
GET
IT
Rampage,
up
in
the
house
COME
GET
IT
What?
Baby
come
get
it
(Turn
the
heat
up
Cause
we
about
to
creep
up
COME
GET
IT
It's
off
the
meter
Plus
we
tear
the
street
up
COME
GET
IT
Ladies
G'd
up,
what?
Don't
smoke
the
weed
up
COME
GET
IT
What?
Baby
come
get
it
(What?
Nigga
come
get
it)
Check
it,
I
come
in
sweeter
than
La
Femme
Nikita
Be
all
up
in
your
hood
like
I'm
a
C&C
two
liter
The
little
honey
that
be
doin
her
she
thing
On
some
Mya
shit,
like
"It's
All
About
Me"
see?
I
bleed
things,
blunt
slicer
on
my
keyrings
Bra
top,
lots
of
G-strings,
havin
weed
dreams
I'd
be
Queen
if
this
the
1900's
Cause
niggaz
gon
get
it,
and
E'RYBODY
want
it
I'm
totin
bags,
eyes
redder
than
a
photo
lab
The
spins
on
your
single,
won't
even
top
my
promo
ad
Hard
drops
quicker
than
jackers
at
the
car
lots
Couldn't
get
no
harder
if
you
went
to
School
of
Hard
Knocks
The
grimy
bitch,
sometime
be
punchliney
bitch
So
don't
make
me
go
there!
Because
the
groupies
are
free,
but
the
rhymes
cost
money.
OH
YEAH!!
All
my
Flipmode
niggaz
just
bounce
to
this
All
my
Rampage
niggaz
just
bounce
to
this
All
my
Hurricane
niggaz
just
bounce
to
this
All
my
niggaz
if
you
with
me
just,
bounce
with
this
Okay,
this
is
how
it
goes,
pimpin
all
you,
hoes
Catch
em
outside
the
shows,
time
to
get
the
dough
Up
in
the
studio,
smokin
the
hydro
Writin
the
hot
shit,
you
waitin
for
me
to
go
Threw
on
the
Ram'
bounce,
just
shakin
yo'
ass
yo
Bump
this
in
your
Lex
Coupe
or
your
Expo'
Flipmode
Squad,
we
the
ones
in
them
videos
Catch
us
with
the
fly
shit,
but
you
don't
hear
me
doe
Rampage,
professional,
just
move
your
feet
We
bout
to
make
you
do
the
jerk,
get
out
your
seats
Seven
days
a
week
and
we
the
Squad
that
don't
sleep
Catch
me
in
the
street
I'm
on
the
midnight
creep,
so
what?
I
walk
the
path,
that
Allah
made,
+Smooth+,
like
Sade
Got
pickup
tracks
--
high-beam
with
the
fog
rays
International
capital,
checks
cashed
in
full
Damage
your
hood,
natural,
spend
grands
for
goods
Traditional
niggaz
know
--
scream
on
these
players
like
DJ
call
in
some
mo',
invincible
pretty
flow
Grammar
God,
swing
like
gold
from
Panama
Twenty-four
carat
charms,
with
smooth
cuts
like
Sarah
Vaughn
Here
we
go,
here
we
go
--
attitude
Spit
the
vocals
hotter
than
soul
food
from
Baton
Rouge
Come,
sharp-tongued
like
Malcolm,
on
any
album
Some
got
chrome
like
Sly
Stone,
what
you
about
son?
Here
it
is,
here
it
is
--
handcraft
the
raw
Who
the
boss?
Human
torch
any
Fantastic
Four
Player,
I
be
a
point
guard,
controllin
things
In
the
4th
quarter,
it's
all
water
like
holdin
springs
DJ
Hurricane
in
the
place
baby
c'mon
Flip--mode,
up
in
the
spot
baby
c'mon
Ram--page,
up
in
the
place
baby
c'mon
Rah,
Digga
up
in
the
house
baby
c'mon
Lord
Have
Mercy
in
the
place
baby
c'mon
Busta
Rhymes
is
in
the
house
baby
c'mon
Whylin
out,
for
the
night
yeah
c'mon
Hollis
crew,
represent
baby
c'mon
DJ
Hurricane
represent
baby
c'mon
All
the
ladies
c'mon,
shake
it
baby
c'mon
All
the
females
c'mon,
shake
it
baby
c'mon.
Attention! N'hésitez pas à laisser des commentaires.