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I Mean Who (Killin em)
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slomurdahbrklyn crisis s
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<div align=center><a href=http://www.xanga.com/slomurdahbrklyn target=_blank> <img src=http://img131.imageshack.us/img131/1198/lbe99wyqrydv3af.gif alt='Hanni
Niggaz I'd hold down all day everyday. Or niggaz i'd take wit me if i recieved fame and acclaim: Jonah aka K Dash Magz aka Karma Dion aka Arsenix Tamba Jordan aka Vendetta Jerry aka Velz Shane aka Syck Syllablez My nigs that produce Trex n' Sway I would Definately put in the word for the entire Black Ice camp. Theres alot more but eh, i jus ill add later.
Song Info
Genre
Hip-Hop • Hip Hop General
Charts
Peak #1,219
Peak in subgenre #710
Author
CRiSiS
Rights
SiCc CiPhEr Raw Regime
Uploaded
May 27, 2005
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.2 MB • 128 kbps • 3:30
Story behind the song
My boy K Dash had a track called "Thats Me" So i felt i should proclaim myself as a premiere emcee as well...
Lyrics
I Mean, who I mean… Who got barz like me I mean… who whip cars like me I mean… who spit SARS like me I mean who rip charts like me Verse 1: Hannibal Y’all can murmur all you want ... --mumble whisper or mutter/ but when da kid’s spittin you shudder// My wrist glisten… it’s cluttered, wit stones tinted like butter, and my Chips frigid like tundra// It’s been written, this brother – Got game and his pimpin is gutta, n’ When Im limpin chicks wonder// How to +tame the god…+ they +trained to slob+ --And I got a clique that’ll +tame the mob+// [[uh huh]] Ya squad got +lames in charge+ — +Dames regard+, my crib as a +“train garage”+// [[whoaaaa]] I got Crazy wit da’ 8, like a *game of cards* Ill send you to god, get ya *remains discard*// Those who live is *remaining scarred* The way I plug ya bitch im *remaining hard*// [[chea]] Grab the tre-pound watch it start *raining hard* Im reignin’, ill heat ya noodles like *Top Ramen, god*// [uhn] I mean… Who got barz like me? I mean… who whip cars like me? I mean… who spit SARS like me? I mean who rip charts like me Verse 2: Hannibal aka CRiSiS Bullets don’t hit soft, god forbid yall get me pissed off Ill pinpoint wit an inf, getcha blood smeared like lip-gloss// Im sick dawg— Im disgustin wit words Im known to ‘settle shit’ like flushing a turd// Its nuthin to splurge, On an MTV crib-- but you stuck on the curb// You getting tough is absurd.. niggaz call me Sylvester when im clutchin the bird// so if u ice grillin like u tryna get me lumped n’ bruised imma ill wit da pump and fill you up like chunky soup// dude I got alotta shit in the trick bag I carry arms like sleeves, but I don’t need bricks stashed// Cuz my flows dope I get cash-- I went from 50 cent bags and kit kats to shoppin on 5th ave// Get back, b4 u get tagged, or ill +carve NI-KE+ On ya face, or leave you wit a +charred white tee+//
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