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      Might Be The Police (Feat. Brisco)

      Might Be The Police (Feat. Brisco)

      Pitbull

      Album: Money Is Still A Major Issue

      Escuchar lo mejor de la musica de Pitbull

      Pitbull - Might Be The Police (Feat. Brisco) Música y Letra

      We gon' take it from the bottom
      (M I A M I to Houston)
      H-town, Pitbull, Bun B
      
      My dogg Demi, keep ya head up, I gotchu, I promise
      All my chicos, I gotchu, I promise
      Miami, I gotchu, I promise
      I'ma take over this bitch, I promise
      So get ready mothafuckaz, this is not a game
      (Eee, yoo, uuu)
      
      I'm from the dirty, dirty, where a lot of these cats mix the weed
      With the coke and blow dirty, we're off the chain meng
      Rap game, crack game, cut it, cook it, chop it, record it
      Album shop it, it's all the same thang
      
      Y'all look at these blue skies and think paradise
      I look at these blue skies and think what a disguise
      That's why it's called the Magic City, it's a treat to your eyes
      Cross the bridge and it'll fuck with ya mind
      
      Word of advice, don't follow the streets, follow the signs
      'Cause the last thing you wanna do is get lost
      'Cause it might just cost ya life
      Y'all heard about the smash and grabs
      So watch where you put the map on the dash
      
      'Cause they might end up clapping ya ass
      Why you think the traffic lights, they blink at late night?
      They don't want you to stop 'cause the streets'll be filled wit red stripes
      Like Jamaican beer, we fry 'em like bacon here
      Yo life'll get taken here, I just thought I should make it clear, yeah
      
      Everything we do is dirty
      We pull up in the drop, it's dirty
      We pound that twat, dirty
      Miami, we're dirty
      
      Where they lace 'em, roll 'em
      Smoke 'em and blow 'em dirty
      Guns they hold 'em
      If they clean dogg, we make 'em dirty
      
      Everything we do is dirty
      We pull up in the drop, it's dirty
      We pound that twat, dirty
      Miami, we're dirty
      
      Where they lace 'em, roll 'em
      Smoke 'em and blow 'em dirty
      Guns they hold 'em
      If they clean dogg, we make 'em dirty
      
      Straight up outta Texas, the reckless, PA to be exact
      Where the streets is cutthroat and fiends kill you for a G of crack
      8 Gg's and Cadillacs, Chevys cut on the deltas
      Might swang up on ya then hurt ya, nobody here gon' help ya
      
      2000 heltah skelta, talking bout families and killers
      Vicious like silver back guerrillas, see then peel ya
      Niggaz down here ain't tryna feel ya, see ya, hear ya, know ya
      Serve ya, for ya or for ya
      (Feel it)
      
      You pussy niggaz been hatin' on us for too long
      So we finna prove you wrong, teach you hoes a new song
      (That's whats up)
      'Cause the time is now
      (Now)
      The place is here
      (Here)
      
      I could smell you scared nigga, I could taste your fear
      
      Go make it clear and move the smoke outta yo eyes
      So that when everything go down
      It won't be no kind of surprise
      
      And I got no time for yo lies
      (No time for lies)
      Save 'em for Peter
      Just remember my name, I'm facing my heater
      (Bitch)
      Let's get it dirty
      
      Everything we do is dirty
      We pull up in the drop, it's dirty
      We pound that twat, dirty
      Miami, we're dirty
      
      Where they lace 'em, roll 'em
      Smoke 'em and blow 'em dirty
      Guns they hold 'em
      If they clean dogg, we make 'em dirty
      
      Everything we do is dirty
      We pull up in the drop, it's dirty
      We pound that twat, dirty
      Miami, we're dirty
      
      Where they lace 'em, roll 'em
      Smoke 'em and blow 'em dirty
      Guns they hold 'em
      If they clean dogg, we make 'em dirty
      
      These boys from the bottom are obsessed with old school Chevys
      We call 'em verts and donks, some we call box Chevys
      Seven-duece, seven-trey, seven-four, seven-five
      M I A M I till I die, 3 0 5
      
      Candy paint and leather, they don't fuck wit nothing but dubs or better
      Y'all call 'em street sweepers, we call 'em choppers
      'Cause when the bullets spit they spin like helicopters
      This city's filled with crooked coppers and crooked doctors
      
      So how could these streets not be filled with crooked bitches?
      And niggaz, cocaine cooking, brick flipping bitches, trippin' for figures
      This Cuban has seen it, heard about it and lived it
      That's why I spit it so vivid, you got it, I want it, you give it
      
      This is for everybody in county, TGK
      Metro West and Stockade doing time
      And if you got more than 365
      And you're up the road rep MIA with pride, that's right
      
      Everything we do is dirty
      We pull up in the drop, it's dirty
      We pound that twat, dirty
      Miami, we're dirty
      
      Where they lace 'em, roll 'em
      Smoke 'em and blow 'em dirty
      Guns they hold 'em
      If they clean dogg, we make 'em dirty
      
      Everything we do is dirty
      We pull up in the drop, it's dirty
      We pound that twat, dirty
      Miami, we're dirty
      
      Where they lace 'em, roll 'em
      Smoke 'em and blow 'em dirty
      Guns they hold 'em
      If they clean dogg, we make 'em dirty

      Pitbull - Might Be The Police (Feat. Brisco) Música y Letra

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