lirik lagu taj-he-bin-laden – taj-he-spitz
[intro]
order to baghdad baby! (uggggh)
aka california
where it never snow
ha! (blaaaat!)
heavy hittas on the beat (blaaaat!)
taji put it 6 feet (blaaaat, haha!)
it’s war in the streets, war in the streets
[verse 1]
i been robbin, i been mobbin
mob call me taji, mob call me bin laden
beat a n*gga ass like rodney
k!ll him on monday, find him on friday
church on sunday, god i’m a goblin
okay you on fire, but i’m a fire hydrant
taliban taji, bombs over baghdad
run into your pad like “b*tch, where the cash at?”
clips in the knapsack, bricks in the trash bag
kata knock a n*gga up and down like nasdaq
i got a bullet…for every bar and 10 verses
it’ll be a million murdered, insurgence ensuring
been smirkish, b*tch got a tongue like a serpent
bb guns? i’m allergic
all black turban, all black suburban
whatеver ain’t murda, gon’ need a surgeon
[hook]
taji been robbin, taji been mobbin
taji been runnin and taji been hidin…
from the policе, man you n*ggas ain’t nathin!
i’m fonkin with the feds, this taji bin laden
what? call me taji bin laden. what? call me taji bin laden
what? call me taji bin laden
you know i’m runnin from the feds (it’s taji bin laden)
[verse 2]
out my brain, who you know insane as i am?
terrorist, looking for a plane to fly
everybody die…if one of i we took man
get left in the street wit ya t**th missin, feet missing and ya hat stole
middle finger gone, it’s in ya assh0l*
you n*ggas wrong
i stay gettin money, but i can’t get along
wit a fake ass n*gga who be lying on his song
my n*ggas throw shots, you throw stones
have your life run flat, no bones
i’m a shooter, with 30 on the ruger
oh sh*t! ima load this b*tch up like a computer!
okay you go stupid, but taji is the tutor
you trippin, taji kickin it like it’s a scooter
my b*tch look good, but don’t let that b*tch fool ya
cause she’ll freeze your ass up like medusa
[verse 3]
i’m a bomb, i’m a don…like perignon
i run it like a marathon, and i can run
i got a gun, i’ll k!ll ya grandfather son
i’m not done, jet li, i’m the one
i don’t know kung fu, but i know these kicks
gon’ be gone by 6, slap a n*gga, punch a b*tch
man, i got 100 guns, with at least 200 clips…each
pipsqueak…wake up you up schitt’s creek
sh*t’s deep, cause you 6 feet
and these shots…won’t get you tipsy
i’ont write raps, i rice krispy’s
pops on a n*gga block with the 40 glock
loud chops on a n*gga ha when i shoot at ya
what monsta my n*gga what i’m a mobsta?
every block that i post up on is mi casa
man, you call me taji, but they call me allah! ha!
[hook]
taji been robbin, taji been mobbin
taji been runnin and taji been hidin…
from the police, man you n*ggas ain’t nathin!
i’m fonkin with the feds, this taji bin laden
what? call me taji bin laden. what? call me taji bin laden
what? call me taji bin laden
you know i’m runnin from the feds (it’s taji bin laden)
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