Search results for by prize in sport album 999

We've found 32 lyrics, 9 artists, and 100 albums matching by prize in sport album 999:



No prize for congeniality
Never knew popularity
The ugly stick had wished
To one day become a swan

Always picked last for sports teams
Got
In recognition of a hundred million album sales
In recognition of your popularity
You take your gaudy prize
From people you said you despise
You
when the big one drops
Am I in sync?
Immortality is what I'm buying
But I'd rather be immortal by not dying
Laboratory rats made Roger a fink
album came and it was not good
I think it went lead or double copper wood
So the silly little fans they were mislead
By a nerdy internet computer hip-hop
Maverick, always above and beyond average
Fuel to the flame that I train with and travel with
Something in my eyes says I'm so close to having the prize
I
album came and it was not good
I think it went lead or double copper wood
So the silly little fans they were mislead
By a nerdy internet computer
doctrine.
The blood spills, smeared on the walls of life.
Humanity ignoring these calls.

Murder so popular in these turbulent times.
Spectator sport
to king, wit a million
MC's waitin in line
Keep a barrel on this album if my man's and them rise

[Method Man]
Now speed it up, uh

[Chorus: x 2]
Run
wit the forty, once sport in the dark
Co-co-corner, black as a goner
Didn't really wanna call my momma in Savannah

[Mike Ransom]
I spit dynamite ignite
far
Agent of darkness, arm of a banned surgeon
Cellophane miracle, fish in his hand burning

Sport coats with dough in both chins
Rose colored hand
short 

I've been writin songs, I'm calm, I'm a good sport 

One year has gone by, with tecs jam up in your eye 

I'm on some clever shit, fuck it man,
Gotti go
That's all I know
It started out
In a small project, where i was turning it out
Credit for Grip
He never tripped, he kept it real
Had
black ridin' shotgun
Black four-five, black Air Ones
Bangin' "The Black Album," track #1
She like that Jay shit, that's her favorite
If it's gon' get
the cars, then we got free
Used to only wanna pull up in a black sport
Just a white man excelling in a black sport
Now I'm really doin' pull ups
Got
hidden house
Got sports car like like heres the [?]
Two sapphires on your neck thats his precious gems
Now AMG it's in boy I will eat him [?]
You angry you
started out, gettin' hard by the ounce
No more cash in stashes, it's cards in accounts
The way I make 'em nod to the bounce
Somebody call Silvia and tell
to court the game and judge you by your hung jury
And I don't sport a chain
Blame it on my ancestors
Brought to port of slaves while I failed to be
prize fight

Nighter off a Geiger napkin scribble to crack riddles
Fizzle back in after the ax tip rizzle grips actually swivels
And they won't stop
Got a key to the city, and a street in my name
(I think I need my own parade)
(I think I need my own parade)
The club that wouldn’t let me in back in
like a bitch, get smacked by your pimp 
Your steelo's undercover, corny on the real brother 
Keep that mop down, just like your album sound 
You flop,
invented the impossible 
Orson Welles gospel hostile times lay near 

The album 2004 video camera digital, that sucks... humans in 
Experiment on - Do
with intention to blow
Carry loads of flows for those who doubt and didn't know
And circumstances deep in crime intense seat back in the
Center of my
Bitches got you hypnotized, see it in your damn eyes
Niggas out here kickin' doors lookin' for the grand prize
See, I'm just lookin' for the baddest bitch
white Air Force Ones come in twos

Yeah, I like her and I like you too
What's wrong? She my *** and you my boo
She got a Range Rover Sport, you got
the day
But by the night I'd need two AKs
A couple of sets of extra clips
And some ham sandwiches
The po-pos know me
And their used to my shananagans
I run