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Search results for 'by l alabama 1998 album alabama'

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Rollin' out to Vegas 
On an eastbound outta L.A. 
I met a roughneck man who hailed from Alabama 
His eyes had a lot to say 
And his name was
Ratin latent, and perpetratin 

My album's love mics, tough like dirt bikes 

You get frantic, New York City, run and panic 

California, I switch
the crew
Yeah throw another bucket in the pool, dried out now everybody skate
Cause I’m a lord of a doggytown, A.L.A.B.A.M.A, my state
My state of my mind
shaking ale
And say "free young struggle" who's not making bail
He got popped by the feds
Fuck the cops! Take an L
Fuck it take M-N-O-P, learn how to spell
This a Tennesse, Alabama, Atlanta connection homeboy

Let me find out these niggas still hating on the low
And their whole life savings I get paid
shaking ale
And say "free young struggle" who's not making bail
He got popped by the feds
Fuck the cops! Take an L
Fuck it take M-N-O-P, learn how to spell
Valentine's
Ten in New York, it's nine Alabama time
Moved to A-T-L, the whole East Atlanta mine
Billion dollar deal, I signed on the dotted line
Gucci 'bout
a rhyme 
I get uptight when I am around people 
Who can't feel the vibe and the scene ain't equal 
I ask myself why when they pass me by 
They act like
From St. Louis to Memphis
From Texas back up to Indiana, Chi-Town
K.C., Motown to Alabama
L.A., New York Yankee niggas to Hotlanta
Louisiana, all my
Yeah be the realest shit I never wrote
I ain't write this shit by the way nigga
Some real shit right here nigga
This will be the realest shit you
the days
Young strays, posted at the L.Q. on Friday's
Waitin for Dice to give the go ahead
Hawkin 50 cent, puttin heads to bed
for a herringbone hear
primitive, I'm Olympian, now it's routed in pistols
Allow me to buy the album, child imbeciles
I was a coward out to intend powerful minutes for
The crowd,
here and pop off real quick
Yo, I gotta get that guap by all means
You know what I'm sayin', son?

Growin' up in Brooklyn, shit
I thought that everybody
of as a New York kinda rhymer (word is bond)
But must New Yorkers got family in South and North Carolina (come on!)
L.A. is little Alabama, they walk and they
and kick it wit' me for a minute
Y'know what I'm sayin', come and ride wit' ya boy man, Hey!
Y'all ready know what it is, hey,
We gone swing by some
Yeah, be the realest shit I never wrote
I ain't write this shit by the way, nigga
Some real shit right here, nigga
This will be the realest shit you
all across the land
Light the fireworks, bring out the marching band

Uncle L, I love the heart land
South Carolina, they lookin' so tan
Out in
hi, to my niggas left in the slamma
From St. Louis to Memphis
From Texas back up to Indiana, Chi-Town
K.C., Motown to Alabama
L.A., New York Yankee
Detroit
Public Enemy #1 in Oakland
Public Enemy #1 in Baltimore
Public Enemy #1 in Miami
Public Enemy #1 in Indiana
Also Public Enemy #1 in L.A., boye
can you hoes come out to play now
Hey I'm, ready to cut you up any day now
Play by, my rules boo and you gon' stay high
May I, answer yo third
A-L-A-B-A-M-A my state, my state of mind 1985 wide body
lookin’ for the little small town keg party
Wanna get drunk wanna fall up in a hottie, get shitty like
can you hoes come out to play now
Hey I'm, ready to cut you up any day now
Play by, my rules boo and you gon' stay high
May I, answer yo third
The time has come, we gotta expand, the whole operation
Distribution, New York, to Chicago, L.A.
We gotta set our own market, and enforce it
get
So you betta stay from round my shit
Slip-n-Slide put me on tha list

[Chorus:]
Miami, get on up!!! Atlanta, get on up!!!! Alabama, get
you could run that shit back
And fuck your loud pack, and fuck your Snapchat
Cherry Bomb, the greatest fuckin' album since the days of sound
And that