the taste right up out of your mouth, pow "I wa, I wa", that's what I'm talkin' about, pow Keep talkin' out the side of your mouth, pow Keep talkin'
Keep talkin' out the side of your mouth (POW!) Smack the taste right up out of your mouth (POW!) "I wa-, I wa-" That's what I'm talkin' about (POW!) Keep
Vertaling: Juveniele. Keep Talkin '.
sex On another note, where them haters at, I'm here to plex How they talkin talkin guns with a pistol and a couple beans Bitch I'm talkin armageddon
from the streets Pants saggin' with my gun in my draws Just to keep on movin' now Just to keep on movin' now Just to keep on movin' now Just to keep
, I'm about to kick this party up, is that alright? [ ROUND 1: Ice-T ] Yo, Yo, MC Ice on a Syndicate Rhyme spree You say you wanna be down, you gotta talk
voice, DVD 'round sound so I'm heard round town And chances of y'all leavin'? 'Round now Wait later, will make front page paper Date raper with juvenile
in to the Juvenile hour I know all y'all hot girls is tuned in right now So we gon' send this new one out to you clearly It's called Rodeo, talk to '
those Game tied tight like bows, we never close Three-sixty-five, twenty-four Hand chose bitches a L.A. mode, gettin' sold Plus a load of killer, as chronic gettin' blowed Keep
says juvenile Show a nigga some titties like Girls Gone Wild Take off your stripper clothes, I wanna see you in the nude You can keep on your high-heel
reel Don't tolerate that talkin' Bitch you can get the walkin' Patron is what I'm groaking The only way that we gonna talkin' If your breath smells
you know your clap We all juveniles, we all been through some trials And some tribulations, I'm in this booth pacin' What do I say next should I talk
daily ritual, jail talk is pitiful not for every individual I'm wit it and I wont go back niggaz mad cause I keep a stack and don't talk crip nigga,
First Verse: [Juvenile] Scraped my elbow jumpin' the fence Creepin' through the grass camoflauged lookin' for them Cowards, non-believers, contradictors
I'm wit' it and I won't go back, niggaz mad 'cuz I keep a stack And don't talk crip nigga, word up Rikers Island, Rikers Island (Iraq Island, Iraq Island
and learned how to Fuck up your anatomy, steadily, calm and deadly Spatter-head lyrics I lick through your transmit MC's submit to the will as I kill your Juvenile
keep it to myself I don't speak it on record and to no one else you think about... when you do crimes you talk about it HELL NO! You keep that real shit
