Lyrics:
You gonna die by my hands
You gonna die by my hands
You gonna die, you gonna die
you gonna die by my hands
You gonna die by my hands
You gonna die
Now the taste of alcohol is filling up my bladder
What's the date and time it don't matter
Had a pocket full of phone numbers I was trying
Now the taste of alcohol is filling up my bladder
What's the date and time it don't matter
Had a pocket full of phone numbers I was trying
a pitbull's jaw
Belligerent like demons that pull
You to the floor
It's Mordechai, back from the dead
Crackin' ya head
Open with a pipe, gettin' hype
Back-up
good luck, for what
He was already dead, what the fuck
I be, breakin' my shit up off in a nigga
When I don't see, nothin' but soft in a nigga
Fuckin'
the funkiest, dopest heat on the streets
Three G ski, Slimm, Big Boi and this is C B-O-N-E
If you need some back-up, find your own
Your girl gonna give you
Murder Inc thugged Out
Franchise funk Flex
Big Dawg Pitbulls!
Two suburbans and a fucking hearse!
Cause Funk Flex and NORE are
Killin' em out there!
That's what's Up
Aight
[Young Buck:]
I'm Not Stopin', Ya Heard What I'm Sayin'
Put The Money In My Hand, And Catch Me If You Can
[D-Tay:]
Pointe
dog god
Cross ya heart foo, and hope to die
Cause you will die when you crucify
Cause I gots frisco all sewed up
Pitbulls in a bunch hidin in the cuts
[Hook]
Get, yo, hands... up against the wall and spread them
Opposition I'll just stick them
Fuck you (fuck you) fuck you (fuck you)
Un-der-stand,
Get yo' hands;
Up against the wall and spread them
Opposition, I can't stand them
Fuck you (Fuck you)
Fuck you (Fuck you)
Un-da-stand;
I'm not fuckin
Get yo' hands;
Up against the wall and spread them
Opposition, I can't stand them
Fuck you (Fuck you)
Fuck you (Fuck you)
Un-da-stand;
I'm not fuckin
Yea, it's been a long time coming man. What everybody's been waiting. Throw your hands up now.
Q
EVERYBODY IN THE FRONT OF THE CLUB (Throw your
my window, cause I gots the beat
I've seen a shadow pulling cattle from an early battle
I've seen this snake up in my shoe and all I heard was rattle
for?
How 'bout that, I'm paid as Oprah
Think I may have broke the scale
'Cause the wait is over
But wait, wait, hold up, 'cause they say I almost
man, then clap your hands
If you venture up the wrong road, then the circumstance
Will be crucial, I got hundreds of rhymes that'll suit you
So listen
voy a ser un pitbull cuando la vida es tan perra (bang)
Keo getting bigger (what?)
Supported by the Narcos y los Killas (and those killers)
Look,
armen Verhältnissen
Mein Leben spiegelt sich im Messern
Egal, was ich zu wissen meinte, Gott wusste es besser
Ups und Downs wie beim Burpee, ich mach'
trying to wake you up
At your wake motherfucker
Black mass, black gloves, duct tape, AK
We always do it big around here baby ba-by!
That's dem Miami boyz
winners can't lose it, unless
Errbody got they hands up like (Oooh!)
See a bad bitch like (Wooah!)
This whole damn city fuckin' go
But this is how the hood
Now if you want to party wit me
then get ya hands up like a robbery
Put ya hands up, ladies put ya hands up
get ya hands up, fellas get ya hands up
But, my fist up, rock star sign
Guitars just broke, in my mind
Was packing up, I might get by
Talking bout luck, on my side oh
Take a walk in my
go, let's go)
Feel me all my chicos, all my Jamaicans all my blacks, all my Haitians (put your hands up)
Feel me, cause they know I'm gunna run till
promise you coulda be di baddest
Da left hand ya never miss
All dem a bend up dem face
Mi see say dem a poppy show
Put dem to di test
Cah mi know none
.jpg/217px-Arena_Corinthians_Opening_(cropped-Pitbull).jpg "Pitbull")
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