We Pop

Song	We Pop
Artist	RZA
Album	Birth Of A Prince

Lyrics

	作词 : Cuffie, Cuffie, Diggs, Jones ...
	Gettin' money 'til the day we fall
	We pop, we brawl, gettin' money 'til the day we fall
	Double barrel shotgun, pop son
	I told nigga, just not run
	I saw him on 205th in
	FordhamThis dog was frozen, so my high heat thawed him
	I blown ya, you need a blood donor
	My bitch ghetto, like
	Florida and
	LaroniaLaundry mat hoes, who want clothes?
	I flow checks, one followed by six
	O'sI got hoes, in codes, in different areas
	Four ton whips that's sittin' on interiors
	The bass shake in the club like it's earthquakin'
	I cock arm, pass the bomb, like
	Troy Aikman
	Play the basement like
	Bruce Wayne and
	Dick Grayson
	You miserable, you get kidnapped by
	Kathy Bason
	Thrown to the dungeon, for your spongin'
	Of Wu Killa
	Bee, what's your total malfunction?
	We pop, we brawl, get money 'til the day we fall
	My glock, my four, throw shots through your bedroom door
	From the P's, to the morgue, cop
	Louie all the way to my drawers
	We pop, we brawl, get money 'til the day we fall
	Come on, let's cut the crap, money,
	I've been gettin' this rap money
	Crack money, stack money,
	I'm tryin' to get that
	Shaq money
	That Mike
	Tyson, Michael
	Jordan, Michael
	Jack' money
	Five hundred mill' and better, dog, yeah, now that's money
	Act funny, ya'll make me laugh
	Frontin' like you tough, you softer than a baby's ass
	These lazy ass labels, fuck you, pay me cash
	My crazy path promoted me into a
	Mercedes class
	We pop, we brawl, get money 'til the day we fall
	My glock, my four, throw shots through your bedroom door
	From the P's, to the morgue, cop
	Louie all the way to my drawers
	We pop, we brawl, get money 'til the day we fall
	Yeah, all ya'll can see is the back of my jersey
	Blowin' in the wind, goin' back to
	JerseyOff to
	Brooklyn, left you back in
	JerseyI was doin' a buck 90 like a throwback jersey
	Shame on a nigga, take it back to
	DirtyRun, game on a nigga,
	I'll be back in thirty
	Seconds, got the world's greatest record
	And that money
	I'mma spend it like a greatest record
	This Division, all the ladies respect it
	Disrespect it and the eighty'll check it
	It ain't hard to see how ya'll ignorin' the steel
	Niggas that
	I clap, lookin' for me still'
	Til they look like they came out of
	George Foreman grill
	Thoughts are stolen on free, must be on them crills
	Plus my, team gon' be holdin' like forty mill'
	Thoughts are rollin' on
	E, must be on the pills
	We pop, we brawl, get money 'til the day we fall
	My glock, my four, throw shots through your bedroom door
	From the P's, to the morgue, cop
	Louie all the way to my drawers
	We pop, we brawl, get money 'til the day we fall
	We pop, we brawl, gettin' money 'til the day we fall
	We pop, we brawl, gettin' money 'til the day we fall
	We pop, we brawl, gettin' money 'til the day we fall
	We pop, we brawl, gettin' money 'til the day we fall

Pinyin

	zuò cí : Cuffie, Cuffie, Diggs, Jones ...
	Gettin' money ' til the day we fall
	We pop, we brawl, gettin' money ' til the day we fall
	Double barrel shotgun, pop son
	I told nigga, just not run
	I saw him on 205th in
	FordhamThis dog was frozen, so my high heat thawed him
	I blown ya, you need a blood donor
	My bitch ghetto, like
	Florida and
	LaroniaLaundry mat hoes, who want clothes?
	I flow checks, one followed by six
	O' sI got hoes, in codes, in different areas
	Four ton whips that' s sittin' on interiors
	The bass shake in the club like it' s earthquakin'
	I cock arm, pass the bomb, like
	Troy Aikman
	Play the basement like
	Bruce Wayne and
	Dick Grayson
	You miserable, you get kidnapped by
	Kathy Bason
	Thrown to the dungeon, for your spongin'
	Of Wu Killa
	Bee, what' s your total malfunction?
	We pop, we brawl, get money ' til the day we fall
	My glock, my four, throw shots through your bedroom door
	From the P' s, to the morgue, cop
	Louie all the way to my drawers
	We pop, we brawl, get money ' til the day we fall
	Come on, let' s cut the crap, money,
	I' ve been gettin' this rap money
	Crack money, stack money,
	I' m tryin' to get that
	Shaq money
	That Mike
	Tyson, Michael
	Jordan, Michael
	Jack' money
	Five hundred mill' and better, dog, yeah, now that' s money
	Act funny, ya' ll make me laugh
	Frontin' like you tough, you softer than a baby' s ass
	These lazy ass labels, fuck you, pay me cash
	My crazy path promoted me into a
	Mercedes class
	We pop, we brawl, get money ' til the day we fall
	My glock, my four, throw shots through your bedroom door
	From the P' s, to the morgue, cop
	Louie all the way to my drawers
	We pop, we brawl, get money ' til the day we fall
	Yeah, all ya' ll can see is the back of my jersey
	Blowin' in the wind, goin' back to
	JerseyOff to
	Brooklyn, left you back in
	JerseyI was doin' a buck 90 like a throwback jersey
	Shame on a nigga, take it back to
	DirtyRun, game on a nigga,
	I' ll be back in thirty
	Seconds, got the world' s greatest record
	And that money
	I' mma spend it like a greatest record
	This Division, all the ladies respect it
	Disrespect it and the eighty' ll check it
	It ain' t hard to see how ya' ll ignorin' the steel
	Niggas that
	I clap, lookin' for me still'
	Til they look like they came out of
	George Foreman grill
	Thoughts are stolen on free, must be on them crills
	Plus my, team gon' be holdin' like forty mill'
	Thoughts are rollin' on
	E, must be on the pills
	We pop, we brawl, get money ' til the day we fall
	My glock, my four, throw shots through your bedroom door
	From the P' s, to the morgue, cop
	Louie all the way to my drawers
	We pop, we brawl, get money ' til the day we fall
	We pop, we brawl, gettin' money ' til the day we fall
	We pop, we brawl, gettin' money ' til the day we fall
	We pop, we brawl, gettin' money ' til the day we fall
	We pop, we brawl, gettin' money ' til the day we fall