Текст песни No Guts No Glory - Rasco , Curse , O.C. , Snowgoons
Snowgoons...
one
two
Heheahahaha,
uhh
Yeah?
Yeah...
Yo,
feast
your
eyes,
two
double
oh-five
While
two
double
oh-six
is
here
My
energy
be
for
all
to
accept
and
hear
I'm
not
ashamed
for
the
ten
years
plus
in
that
game,
won't
ain
O.C.,
speak
my
mind
cause
I
ain't
no
lame
Never
defendin,
creates
my
own
lane
Long
live
the
saga,
with
a
clear
slate
clear
head
these
days
Works
for
hire,
possible
if
I'm
prepaid
Welcome
me
back,
give
a
toast
to
my
libido
flow
Similar
to
sex
spurnt
from
my
urethra
Friction,
give
off
heat
like
a
fever
Good
lucks
for
those
who
wish,
I
don't
need
it
Much
to
my
amazement,
or
should
I
say
that
I'm
not
surprised
I
still
reside
in
the
basement
Wits
and
charm
is
what
bless
this
tongue
Along
with
the
mindstate
for
me
to
write
these
songs
Uhh
No
pain,
no
gain,
no
guts,
no
glory
This
ain't
another
war
story,
this
is
trill
My
heart,
my
brain
got
the
will
to
survive
In
my
shoes,
you
wouldn't
make
it
out
alive,
no
These
young
rappers
in
the
game
ain't
got
nuttin
for
me
This
ain't
another
war
story,
this
is
trill
My
heart,
my
brain
got
the
will
to
survive
In
my
shoes,
you
wouldn't
make
it
out
alive,
no
Dead
in
the
middle
of
Germany,
puffin
herbally
Observe
me
as
I
absurdably
murder
beats
verbally
to
the
third
degree
I
ain't
no
nerd
or
freak,
I'm
the
word,
the
streak
That
works
Shareef,
peace,
nice
to
meet
I
need
a,
mic
to
eat,
a
track
to
bash
Your
shit
is
whack,
it's
trash,
I
just
have
to
ask
You
just
playin
right?
You
can't
be
tryin
I'll
blow
you
the
fuck
away
like
a
dandelion
Be
a
man
c'mon
now,
you
can't
be
cryin
My
next
album
six
figures
or
I
shan't
be
signin
I'm
so
independent
I'll
GO
independent
Get
dough
independent,
I
SMOKE
independents!
The
most
mentally
ill,
so
gifted
and
real,
the
spit
that
can
kill
Pick
up
the
mic
it's
like
I
lift
up
the
steel
Aim
it
at
your
temple,
now
how
that
feel?
It
hurts
like
a
motherfucker
don't
it?
Now
bow
down
and
kneel
Look,
yo
Man
I'm
back
for
it,
it's
the
black
poet
Sit
down
spit
rhymes
just
to
get
the
stacks
flowin
You
cats
ain't
knowin,
man
I'm
back
for
revenge
The
real
shit,
never
had
to
pretend
Shatter
your
shins,
nigga
go
and
gather
your
ends
Call
your
friends,
forgivin
you
for
all
your
sins
It
all
begins,
right
here,
makin
it
quite
clear
It's
twenty-oh-six,
make
sure
it's
the
right
year
To
your
right
ear,
or
your
left
lobe
Still
swingin
hard,
then
watch
a
nigga's
chest
fold
Get
this
dress
code,
I
spit
the
best
flows
No
cat
better
than
Ras
to
stack
cheddar
You
all
falsetto
with
no
bass
and
no
taste
Bring
it
to
you
live
at
sunrise
at
yo'
place
I
give
'em
no
space,
we
on
a
dough
chase
Niggas
can't
get
it
cause
they
movin
at
a
slow
pace
Yeah,
Dick
Swan
in
the
building
Snowgoons,
live
Альбом
German Snow
1 This Is Where the Fun Stops
2 The Hatred
3 Starlight
4 Black Snow
5 No Guts No Glory
6 The Spell
7 Lost
8 Raining
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