Übersetzung: King Just. Round 'em Up.
I'd be damn, if I take a fuckin ugly bitch home Roam through the ancient tomb of doom A metamorphosis, that becomes a cocoon [Chorus] Round 'em up, move 'em up, lay 'em
poppin nigga its time to hanlde up (Chorus)x2 (Verse 3) All these.. jive niggaz wan rep on me Knowin they ain't bout to step cross Martin Luther King
side, well you should have him full time Go fuck up his shit instead of mine [50 Cent:] Go get, punk bitch (You got to be good to me) I don't need you round
sheets It ain't no telling if I wake up in the county in my jail sheets My intuitions and ambitions up in the late night Probably involves me comin up with just
love affair, wit' violence and guns So this is for them gangstas, rep' where you from When I got O'd up, my heart turned colder That's why the mac react like a king
round the court square sidewalk Lookin' in windows at things I couldn't want There's johnson's hardware and morgans jewelry And the ol' Lee king's apothecary
check up on it? (I'ma let you work up on it;) Ladies, let him check up on it - (Watch it while he check up on it...) Dip it, pop it, twirk it, stop it
, Friday (Night) Lights, Capture me, In my hometown... [Chorus:] King City, King, King City Third Coast Representer, Mississippi Switchin Lanes King City, King, King
babe let's go We'll dance 'round this dirty town 'til the night is all done Let all the finer things sleep alone tonight Let all the minor kings lose
got in the truck ooh girl your body cold Hey, im taking em, apple and cinnamon Girls arent feeling em cant stop drippin' em Thats why they got me dribbling
more important, steal em if you can't afford em I'm gettin to the money, I need another comma Some of em love the drama, more than they love they mama
wonder who, Then they meet my pop and tell 'I'm ''Drake is just a younger you'', And shawty wanna party so don't let yo girl up out the house Or there
fucking raining, shit, it's lightening Bitch, it's thundering, cause I'm hushing up I'm a storm if you wonderin' Shit, you could muster up a thought,
down I'll bring you through the ghetto without ridin round hiding down duckin strays from frustrated youths stuck in they ways Just read a magazine that fucked up
too much And Em got soft And they say Dre just fell the fuck off Well fuck the fuck offs All y'all eat soft, be mad, we bad fresh up outta the vault,
king, all my past pain all done changed up All these plains, all these lames, since the Slaughter's came up Cause they know they hands tied, feet ball and chained up
never been this itchy, hope these cops just get a doughnut urge and just splurge, you got the nerve to play third? In a softball tournament round my waist
