[Instrumental]
Vertaling: Big Daddy Kane. A Day At The Races.
we're gonna play another show Quick get off and gas up at the Conoco We're driving We drive against the grain Like postmen in the rain CHORUS Welcome to our big
i've got a big ass truck. it's got a 383 that's been built right up. it's lowered right down to the ground. it'll beat every cop in this fuckin' town
Кости бросаю, ботинки шнурую туго Собирая пыль по улицам, бреду тупо Нервами надорванными цепляюсь за прохожих Агрессией уничтожая ложных Ищу смысл моего
cape on And it's just so amazing So amazing So amazing [Big Sean] Take it to the car, bloop, bloop, that shit look like I'm speed racing Leave em with
can read it in the press do you really wanna know whats next, lets go see the way we on, when we all up in the race and you know we gotta go, don
Off to the races I'm going places Might be a long shot Not gonna waste it This is the big break And it's calling my name Yeeeaah So far so great
Eventually, see they can't beat then with me they join Others sworn, under oath or banished, left completely scorned You tell lies, get caught, nigga kick rocks You never did blend in with the big
gun powder, sniffin' She got a gun but could have been a model or physician So what you know 'bout the pirates terrorize the ocean To never know a simple day without a big
chauffeur in Gucci loafers And switch to All Stars without losin' focus These rap niggaz hopeless, you can change the locks But I'ma shine for niggaz that ain't know Big
No one had a choice in the race we were placed A brother in queens was beaten and chased Murdered cold in the streets, a goodamn disgrace Just because of his race
Been running in place for such a long time Stuck in a race in the wrong line When it all came down on me And I haven't had faith in such a long time
go up in the sto' a nigga never get enough I'm a baller and if you want it come and get it now Nigga come to a race with a car you won't catch up And
oh, oh Hey, hey, oh, oh This is real as it gets A hundred million to the good and I'm still talkin' yayo At a snails pace I won this race that y'all
shirt, fuck it, at least our arms are tatted We sloppy drunk disgusting, and liquor keep you wasted 285 eastside, me and aye wasted Racing, seven big
