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(feat. Pharrell Williams (Neptunes)) [Repeat through intro] Star Trak, Star Trak - Star Trak [Intro: Pharrell Williams] Lord I've seen so many things That make me wonder why But if the Fettaralis comes to take my life Just give me the wings to fly And I'll say, to myself, yeah What a wonderful.. [Rosco P. Coldchain] Well well well, why don't you you roll your window down I want you to see this [Chorus] [PW:] When a nigga is delinquent with cash in hand Even if it's just a couple of grams [RC:] Nigga do what I do, nigga drop that motherfucker Pop that motherfucker! [Verse: Rosco P. Coldchain] I done squeezed more guns than Charleton Heston And if you niggaz mouths persist to run on, I'm a continue to step on Every limb on, every inch of yo body Letras de cancionesYou better hope the outlaw better never go broke You fuck around you be the one being smacked around wit a gun No joke slick, I'll shoot your papa and tie your mama up Whoop out an eight and pull out a straight, bitch take a hit of this coke Now, I advise you niggaz to chill My percentile rises in the battle field Your gangsta rating declining when it's time to kill You rewindin, is it Rosco's rounds you feel? Your eyes blinded, not from the ice but the light from my steel Ya'll niggaz never seen real bread The Stroheman type that buy car, brick Home and bikes, all at the same time I haven't either Basically what I'm saying I'll jam you, one Desert Eagle Uhh, coat change Jack! [Chorus x2] [Verse: Rosco P. Coldchain] Why did the dickhead cross the road? Man I hit 'em with a 12 gauge And I didn't give him a chance to reload That's what inexperienced gangstas get for playing a role You hatin on my dough? Look now there goes an angel taking your soul Fuck you, your fun, and your 4.6 I can push a renter, peel 'em wit guns and still be the shit It'll be nice to be rich, but I'd rather be well off A half a pile raw, house in Conshohocken In a rimmed Impala I roll with thugs and thieves Not the petty kind but the ones that'll make you get on your knees And pursaude you with their thundering pound To give up your valuables or they gunning you down I wanna leave the pullitzers even though you cooperated They still letting off rounds Now in your own matter you drown Greed and insanity drove me to start killing you clowns 41 caliber slugs stuck in your bladder now Clipse, Rosco P. - we platinum bound [Chorus x2] [Verse: Rosco P. Coldchain] You niggaz would love to see me gone In a plastic bag ligaments torn But bitch I pop more niggaz than I pop Perkisets Thump on you so hard I'll make it seem like Even if you were strapped your hammer just ain't working right Bullets coming in flurries, fiends coming in a hurry At a quarter to four in the morning, knocking at my crackhouse door Neighbors waking up yawning, secretly calling the police Draw'n, and that fact I'm ignorin Like I'm not running a 24-Hour drugstore Like I ain't got enough guns to take on an armed force Remmington will leave ya mind simmering In a fine blood sauce when I'm pissed off Which is all the time so you better get lost I ain't got a fine line These slugs will leave ya twitching like a schitz' and smoke his jaw You dealing with a repeat feloner If we can't see eye to eye, I'm a sea level ya And I mean that, deado [Chorus] From Letras Mania