MusicGu.ru

(a.k.a a.k.a the rugged child)

Microphone check one two one two yo

Microphone check one two one two yo

Microphone check one two one two yo

Microphone check one two



chorus (x2)

One`s for the money

two`s for the show

three`s for ya hooker

but we all say HOE!



My slang and my gang bows up the concrete

Like everybeing rocking

Don`t sweat the technics

So you got beef

Narrow sony go get ya posse

Cause I`ve got a mosse, when you wear haratchies

Then you hear me kicking as I own you, it`s mad ruggie

The jump on my tip, but I taught nuff to naw it

Cause I let the microphone spark right after dark

And be dropping mad skillz like my name was Pad Mark

The rebel to society

Everyone`s trying me

Loking at me strange leave dim raid it`ll mase me

Had I did something wrong go and my dumb

Brothers keep stressing, no shorties the one

To make it real snappy, and little nasty-nasty

Things get pawsie-pawsie

And of to be hax me

It`ll little gone and still can hold you on, on

Microphone so keep licking on that wish bone

You had you`re chans but you feld out on tune,

So you`re hanging out with deuce, now you say that rock rues

You make me laugh as you`re mom`s get smoke

You get ain`t like a taffy, and red like the chokes

Flow with the flow from the Wu-tang free-style

You catch yo bow-bow, And they`re two`s this wild, child

From the Staten the Island, the temple

just an exemple how pop goes the pistole



chorus (x2)

One`s for the money

two`s for the show

three`s for ya hooker

but we all say, HOE!



Here comes the shortie with the tec twenty two

but If you tell Im gonna blast you

From the projects worst ghetto section

So my back but gun from protection

Shortie do-wa, more shoops and tupa`

Come and do with the Wu-tang hip-hop

Shortie wa-wa, shorts sniki sha-sha

Go-go, ga-ga, now you want me popa

Im not a mack daddy or my daddy mack

Touch my napsack, boy you gettin` pitch smack

I`ve got a style may not be formilliar

It`s like both way you`re callin` round in a cosha

Who will be the next to flex and face death

ashes to ashes, and only dust is left



chorus (x2)

One`s for the money

two`s for the show

three`s for ya hooker

but we all say, HOE!

(a.k.a a.k.a the rugged child)

Microphone check one two one two yo

Microphone check one two one two yo

Microphone check one two one two yo

Microphone check one two



chorus (x2)

One`s for the money

two`s for the show

three`s for ya hooker

but we all say HOE!



My slang and my gang bows up the concrete

Like everybeing rocking

Don`t sweat the technics

So you got beef

Narrow sony go get ya posse

Cause I`ve got a mosse, when you wear haratchies

Then you hear me kicking as I own you, it`s mad ruggie

The jump on my tip, but I taught nuff to naw it

Cause I let the microphone spark right after dark

And be dropping mad skillz like my name was Pad Mark

The rebel to society

Everyone`s trying me

Loking at me strange leave dim raid it`ll mase me

Had I did something wrong go and my dumb

Brothers keep stressing, no shorties the one

To make it real snappy, and little nasty-nasty

Things get pawsie-pawsie

And of to be hax me

It`ll little gone and still can hold you on, on

Microphone so keep licking on that wish bone

You had you`re chans but you feld out on tune,

So you`re hanging out with deuce, now you say that rock rues

You make me laugh as you`re mom`s get smoke

You get ain`t like a taffy, and red like the chokes

Flow with the flow from the Wu-tang free-style

You catch yo bow-bow, And they`re two`s this wild, child

From the Staten the Island, the temple

just an exemple how pop goes the pistole



chorus (x2)

One`s for the money

two`s for the show

three`s for ya hooker

but we all say, HOE!



Here comes the shortie with the tec twenty two

but If you tell Im gonna blast you

From the projects worst ghetto section

So my back but gun from protection

Shortie do-wa, more shoops and tupa`

Come and do with the Wu-tang hip-hop

Shortie wa-wa, shorts sniki sha-sha

Go-go, ga-ga, now you want me popa

Im not a mack daddy or my daddy mack

Touch my napsack, boy you gettin` pitch smack

I`ve got a style may not be formilliar

It`s like both way you`re callin` round in a cosha

Who will be the next to flex and face death

ashes to ashes, and only dust is left



chorus (x2)

One`s for the money

two`s for the show

three`s for ya hooker

but we all say, HOE!

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