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Search results for 'dont look back 7 mix by teena marie'

Yee yee! We've found 43 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching dont look back 7 mix by teena marie.



crashed, all cashed
She said, I'm done with looking back, and you look your age
Which is thirty-seven, by the way, and not twenty-eight

And fucking let
onto something
Once thought unattainable
The course was never charted
So don't look into the books
The secret's not the recipe
It's got to be
if you ain't got that pin number dummy, you can't call me
To hook up with Mix you gotta call that number
Then sit by the phone and wonder
Will he
no regrets, destiny's, fifty's and equities
Queens'll be the death of me

To the suspect witness don't come outside
You might get your shit pushed back
don't come outside
You might get your s*** pushed back tonight
(Suspect witness don't come outside
 You might get your s*** pushed back tonight)
and they after me
Homies dove to the back
And dove out the window like Fall Guy
We in the mix, hittin fence after fence
Rin Tin Tin picked up the scent
They
Let's go back to magic cruise I ain't like the mother fools got 
To play by ma rules face down, ass p, pants off look (uh)
There it go
Don't be scared
the mood
Let's go back to my jacuzz'
I ain't like them other fools
Gotta play by my rules
Face down
Ass up
Hands off look (oh)
There it go
Don't be
that they gave me
Beanie! Yeah, but guess who back

It's Mack, bitch uh-huh, back in the mix or the scuffle
I'm in the hood with them chips like
cash for eighty seven
Some did it got paid, some jams were never played
But I am just a poet who watched the whole parade
Go by, and why, cause they
I'm feelin real good
with a look like, "Bitch I wish you would"
try to slow my roll, hold me up
It ain't gon' go, not this time bitch no
I'm back up in
to the back representin' the third ward

Chorus:
Don't ya be greedy don't don't be greedy 
Don't don't cha be greedy
Me rat a tat, tat tat tat, on you dog hoes
on the wall, better unload the shit
Fucked up niggas and firearms don't mix right
Cocked back the chamber, dumping shells 'til it felt light
Thought I dumped
by the look on my face
Don't get it twisted like a nigga coked up
And druggied down, see Cannabis and mushrooms 
Be coming from the ground, all
the mix
'Cause I'm a soldier, blasting at the rollers, b****
We don't, never ever, talk no s***
Unless we back that s*** up, n**** you get lit

Slow
Look around, that's why everybody's congregated

It's getting to the point where
I don't even wanna work with rappers no more man
All these years
the mood, let's go back to my jacuzz'
I ain't like them other fools, gotta play by my rules
Face down, ass up, pants off, look, ooh

There it go, don't be
Allah just, I lay it for the mix tapes
Quick to quake a label-mate 
The sound came outta rusted crate
Surrounded by cobwebs
Beat smooth enough
in
Tha mix now ya cocksucka,

put on your seat belt, need help I'm about to go fast, no
Bitchin' motha fucka, so don't even ask, forget about the past,
doors
But look here dog, a hoe once told me loc
Bite the hand that feeds you, and you'll wind up broke
Bitch niggas don't deserve to kick it with rich
doors
But look here dog, a hoe once told me loc
Bite the hand that feeds you, and you'll wind up broke
B**** n****s don't deserve to kick it with rich
singing
Homeboys conceal your weapons
Cuz ain't gon be no smoking section in heaven
No more be buckin your luck
Seven eleven on the first roll
Don't
weed back seat full of garbage bags
Lookin' fo' that money train lookin' fo' that treasure
Like to fuck a lot mix the business wit' the pleasure
and smashin 
I flash with the bling I sur-pass the supreme 
You don't really wanna have a clash with my team 
I mix hash with the green I'm the, last
clackin 
Look at Mr. Jackson, n**** with no reaction 
If you scared, go to church, we gon' hit you where it hurts 
That don't work, we'll put you in