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Yee yee! We've found 37 lyrics and 112 artists matching box calf.
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J Fox Slim waist, phat calfs, big legs, thicc ass Slim waist, phat calfs, big legs, thicc ass Pull down my pants she never seen a bigger cock Hit it
I got green converse on with some mid calfs Playing 2k on the box, while I sit back Yea I play it cool, but homie you can get ya shit smacked Last
right? (copyright) dawg, I can box, I'm nice Watch ya tongue, bitch I'm not the one You said you ain't no shotgun so I Know you never shot a gun I shot
Streached up in hospital beds, fed fluid Two bullets hit my leg, one passed through it Saw the blood and the hole in my calf, looked through it My life's
Breaks out the attic... return to serfdom Lurkin' with a box is Chaz, murmuring with talkin ants And somehow that is less bizarre than workin' thru this
Inna the dark with 20 thousand thoughts 9 x and couple rolling calf couple head banger weh no show teeth dawg bad bitch weh thick like a protein bar
With sad record sales won't flop (nah) That's what you thought but I'm in that New Porsche no box earrings chain on no Watch (that's big) picture
I think way out the box, while they stay confined Roaming day n nite searching, what I want from life? Truth be told, don't think I want a wife But
foes Bustin' motherfuckers out the box I ain't even go! Now how the hell do you Explain my claim to fame? From doin' flicks to bustin' tricks Out
Back with S.S.D., record sales won't flop That's what you thought but I'm in that new Porsche No box earrings, chain on, no watch Picture
The suckers out the box, as I dropped back-calls For response they responded, the response was overwhelming From brothers with cool tones, but rookies were
to sundown Ridin' herd on old memories Sundown to sun up Singin' the bunkhouse blues There's a lone bawlin' calf Lost in a little box canyon Got
Back with S.S.D., record sales won't flop That's what you thought but I'm in that new Porsche No box earrings, chain on, no watch Picture
The sun grazes my past and Love cradles my calf i must ladle the craft Fuck raiding the blast doors, I'm up Trust me your mast stuck on the glass ceiling
box Butchering these beats like how y'all pronounce my last name (Come on y'all) I put the muscle in, y'all ain't 'bout this calf game (Flex) I'm from
your stomach And the pain in your calf With just a run then a roundoff And a twist and a half Do it like you dreamed of (Carry us, Kerri, there's hope
Keep a 40 and a box wid her Ain't my shorty but I rox wid her agh! Curing? wid her Boilin down some ham hocks wid her Rockin his and hers crocs wid her
I found a silver bracelet that I bought for my first wife Found it tossed into that box from when I lived another life I found a silver tooth that
now I’m fuckin wit cash Run it up til I fuck up a calf All I know is how to fuck up a bag and get it back like that Get the work hit the turf make it
niggas could never hold back We just trynna go and get to the racks Think he the goat nigga you wack More like a calf horns what you lack yeah Nigga you
on that bitch Oh yeah Why don't you come and take a hit Yeah Join my conversasean Don't you go play along Thinking outside the box or you stick to pay
Realizing that your my other half I’m making you laugh so hard it hurt your calf Cause these days we’re alone together We’re warm together like some leather
cold I know you want me to be like you I never really tried, but I don't think I'd do a very good job unless your therapist Tied me up in your box
me Cuz I come from the undergrounds like I run off decaf And if ya running the game ima come and de-calf Your whole squad and all of the legs that ya
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