Search results for 'bat by runaway cab'
Yee yee! We've found 12 lyrics, 12 artists, and 100 albums matching bat by runaway cab.
Chicago Cab (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Ghost: The String Quartet Tribute to Death Cab for Cutie (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Acoustic Tribute To Death Cab For Cutie (Hutchinson, Hutch) · How Big Can You Get?: The Music of Cab Calloway (Big Bad Voodoo Daddy) · Destroys O.C.: Cab's 50th Birthday Bash! [Video] (Faction) · Cab Calloway and the Missourians (1929-1930) (Cab Calloway) · Cruisin' with Cab (Cab Calloway) · Get with Cab (Cab Calloway) · Cab Driver (The Mills Brothers) · Red Cab to Manhattan (Stephen Bishop) – and 90 other albums »
put him by A buck knife, a saw blade, a lead pipe, a twelve gauge I could've deep-sixed him, wouldn't bat an eye Well, he's not like we are, see he
and decay We got off the airplane A couple of runaways I was hoping you'd stay Could you stay You were the holiest one From a taxi cab in Chelsea Out past
my math too I leave a message, ain't a phone I use I call my niggas, bat 'em down, they bones I bruise Leave 50 niggas dead, niggas know my groove
But keep the heat by it, so when why'all creep keep quiet [Chorus] You can stand the fuck up if you fire your gun nigga But sit the fuck down you
to the hood for the night Bats on heels nigga straps gon kill The cab no wheels jack told Jill I don't like kinds and icons who pipe dimes and so on Let by
throughout my life those are the rules that I've lived by A sucker put his hands on me homie I'll give a guy A jab, jab, jab, uppercut, jab Get 'em a steaks
have to, tryin' to get my math too I leave a message, ain't a phone I use I call my niggas, bat 'em down, they bones I bruise Leave 50 niggas dead,
things out Like a ruler 'cause nowadays, the cart we juggle is full of hate, killas, and Runaways. I'm sick of it, so I'll be the first brother to shout,
fierce", Man, I'm agasp here Saddened by acts whose only buzz was gotten from 50 glasses of Pabst beer Man, I'm stacked like I jacked Sears After I smack you
a sick-minded freak, six minds kinda think Sitcom-blinded geek found life by hide-and-seek I climb the steep, a few times a week The line's with skeet,
tell by the chiseled horns on my forehead bitch Hammer-hat flyer than a bag of bats And Jade's a fucking acrobat, I'll flip her on a mattress Last
Washington Next up to bat, the Rosarios They run the cab company They struggle in the barrio See, their daughter Nina's off at college, tuition is mad