FASCINADA (feat. Cain) - LÉO & Music Lab Records

Alright there ah buddy license and registration Uh, officer is there a problem man whats going on? Yeah I had a report of a UFO What's that? An unidentified Ferrari looking object Flying by me on the highway You know how fast you were going? Nah not at all man You must have been going pretty damn fast Because my radar is over there smoking buddy Keep your hands where I can fucking see 'em too I heard about you in the paper I know you got the toaster strudel In the trash bar or red box Or whatever they call that shit, alright? Yeah I need some backup over here I've got two rap singers I wonder briefly, could it be there's no roof above me Or the 22's underneath me That's keepin' them sirens flashin' on my ass Should I get to pumpin' the brakes or mashin' on the gas? I'm naturally harassed, and I feel like I'm getting punked But I don't see Ashton in the grass, nor is there a camera Stashed into the dash, it's a guy in a uniform And a passion that he has, for flashin' with his badge And shinin' light in my face, plus he keeps his right hand right By his waist, the wrong move will get a gun right in my face And they fightin' for my life I'm fightin' the case And I ain't trying to be the story they twist in the press Like the young man resisted arrest Then he started reachin' for somethin' That looks like a pistol I guess, so I pulled on a nigga I mean I pulled on the trigger figures I go around the corner what do I see? Po Po's followin' me Askin' for my ID who's car I'm driving Po Po's botherin' me Got me in a lineup, got my hands in cuffs They don't wanna set me free Tryin' to bring me down, when they come around Po Po's fuckin' with me Aw, shit the jakes are fucking with me again They hate to see me rich They'd rather see me stuck in the pen Every time they walk or pull up beside me Flash lights in my face Askin' for my registration and ID I don't know the reason for the harassment And the questions they askin', or the ice grills they get When I'm passin' or may be its my fault 'Cause I be out all times at night Doin' shit I know I shouldn't Plus I don't be ridin' right Smokin' lye no stash box for me to put the skit Two warrants, no license and I ain't got insurance yet I keep a hammer close Because foes wanna stick me up But keep my movement swift Because Po's wanna frisk me up Since '94 I've been told on by fifty descriptions And in ten years not once did they get a conviction These pigs shouldn't provoke a rider I'm so tired they got one more time To fuck with me before I open fire Ones for the money and twos for the show Three must be for the motherfuckin' Po Po's I've seen ghetto kings fall to the floor 'Cause they can't see ask Still some of y'all creepin' with the Po Po's Sleepin' wit the Po Po's Some of y'all walking wit the Po Po's I ain't fuckin with the Po Po's Bitch they gone' have to put my back on the cement Before I'm in the back with my knee bent On my way back to the precinct, I'm back in the G Bent Black wit the pre tint, Vanilla aroma to cover the back With the tree scent, the way I ride I know I'm in for a case But the coupe do two hundred so they in for a chase When it comes to lawyers I got the man Puff uses Thats why you never seen my wrists with handcuff bruises I got them hollow tips to stick up in the AR's Detectors in the dash to pick up on the radar Stash box in it when I purchased the vehicle So I don't have a problem with you searching the vehicle They probably want to scoop an arrest I try to throw shots but its cool, I got a Coupe like a vest And 'em troopers will just feel stupid I guess The slugs will bounce off like they hittin' Superman's chest, nigga I go around the corner what do I see? Po Po's followin me Askin' for my ID who's car I'm drivin' Po Po's botherin' me Got me in a lineup, got my hands in cuffs They don't wanna set me free Tryin' to bring me down, when they come around Po Po's fuckin' with me {Shit man a nigga ain't even do shit aw Shit here comes this dude right now Alright buddy unfortunately you came back straight You and your buddy, Scain scholar get the fuck outta here I don't wanna see you guys around here again alright Look take it from Larry Lock the rapper man get the fuck outta here I don't wanna see you around here again and by the way I need an autograph for my kids they love you eh?}

Yeah, yo Cain what up nigga Why wouldn't these bitches love us nigga? Why wouldn't these niggas hate us? Why wouldn't they fab? Yeah, Desert Storm, yeah Why wouldn't I talk as greasy as cheese steak meat In a strawberry range, pie crust piping on the cheesecake seats? I'm known for hittin' women's soft spots With Princess cut Canaries the size of lemon cough drops I'm right behind 'em in the Porsche drop Linen soft top, sick chain with twenty point rocks Take your bitch, why wouldn't I? The whip got chrome shoes, cream leather seats with old wooden sides Yeah, what's really poppin', usually boys know This ghetto superstar with the Bruce Lee Roy glow Niggas has to hate the outcome Plus I'm in a throwback from the same year they assassinated Malcolm Make so much ends, I got to find faster ways to count 'em A minute on the block, how fast I make a thousand? That nigga you love to hate, still hug blocks and bubble weight Off the love I can't Baby girl, why wouldn't fellas stop ya? After we come through the hood in helicopters The dro I got in this wood, is hela-proper We do the damn thing, who could they tell us not to? Why wouldn't this joint make you wanna dance? Why wouldn't these jewels make you wanna glance? Why wouldn't this whip make you wanna ride? And why wouldn't this thing be on my side? Why wouldn't this game have you on your knees? Why wouldn't these twenty's be on the V's? Why wouldn't this money make you wanna hate? Why wouldn't I huh, why wouldn't I what? Why wouldn't I pull up to the spot, yellow is all ok? Dressed in yellow linen, covered in Canaries never a flaw Why shouldn't I wear this much ice The princesses in my hair, are clear and cut, right? Why wouldn't I talk this slick, why not? With a watch and bracelet this flooded, and a cross this sick So why wouldn't I get it homes? I mean To a nigga gettin' money like myself, a little brain that's minimal Might talk but I live it though, sick chain glitter roll Never sleep and don't stop gettin' that Hold up Cain, uh, why wouldn't I have samples of raw And academic sample the laws, hypnotic samples the poor The European sample is all yeah Will on the right side do with the wings stamped on the door It's the street family boss, I land by the shores Get pampered by whores, eat scamp and claws The kid's been trampled before by a tramp with no flaws That's up to they get cramps in they jaws I keep kefs jammed in the floor, amp meter draw End up in a wheelchair rammed by your dog Why wouldn't this joint make you wanna dance? Why wouldn't these jewels make you wanna glance? Why wouldn't this whip make you wanna ride? And why wouldn't this thing be on my side? Why wouldn't this game have you on your knees? Why wouldn't these twenty's be on the V's? Why wouldn't this money make you wanna hate? Why wouldn't I huh, why wouldn't I what? After a million scanned on it Why wouldn't the Range look like it got twenty inch ceiling fans on it Only reason you in my face ma'am Is 'cause I got the same Nike's that Jordan had on in Space Jam Why wouldn't I chase chips? Come through Aves, like Pluto Nash in Coupes that look like Spaceships, ridiculous bracelet and the outrageous Watch with flawless rocks, invisible placement I oughta feel like a boss Why wouldn't I get a 100 an appearance? Quarter mil a endorse, I oughta feel some remorse 'Cause I'm killin' 'em out there, and a stick shift sport utility Porsche Yeah, I know when you see us, it be pissin' you off 'Cause you would think we paid a fortune for the shit that we floss Spend summers in my Sicily loft Whole crib, interior decoration done by Christian Dior Baby girl, I got cops thats on the payroll Jet skies, and speed boats docked up in Barbados Green and cream Tims, brocolli and potatoes Why wouldn't you see the Storm for the rocks and these tornadoes Why wouldn't this joint make you wanna dance? Why wouldn't these jewels make you wanna glance? Why wouldn't this whip make you wanna ride? And why wouldn't this thing be on my side? Why wouldn't this game have you on your knees? Why wouldn't these twenty's be on the V's? Why wouldn't this money make you wanna hate? Why wouldn't I huh, why wouldn't I what? Why wouldn't this joint make you wanna dance? Why wouldn't these jewels make you wanna glance? Why wouldn't this whip make you wanna ride? And why wouldn't this thing be on my side? Why wouldn't this game have you on your knees? Why wouldn't these twenty's be on the V's? Why wouldn't this money make you wanna hate? Why wouldn't I huh, why wouldn't I what?