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Search results for 'i hate live from the borderline london by passenger'

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The towers of London, these crumbling rocks
Reality estates that the hero's got
And every hour's maked by the chime of a clock
And whatcha gonna
the boot of Italy to the land of Pawnee
Fell in love a couple times on the London Bridge
Fast cars, fast life, that's how I wanted to live

What a crusade,
alone
Ain't gon' follow no footsteps I'm making my own
Only way that I know how to escape from this 8 Mile Road

You gotta live it to feel it
You didn't,
I hate you, break you, Ivan Drago
I'm rushing to put pellets in your pecan pronto
P! Ain't talking money, we can't convo
You pussy under pressure, pa
the passenger and merked the DA’s messenger
Every corner, camera
Nigga im just tryna live
Shitty on a shitty curb
Niggas can ya front ya kids
See how niggas
know I'm certified sick
I came from the corner where nobody got shit
Took the cards I was dealt, turned it into hot spit
Now I'm not only a passenger
on us (no) 
Girls be all on us, from London back down to the US (s, s) 

We rockin' it (contagious), monkey business (outrageous) 
Just confess, your
own
Only way that I know how to escape from this 8 Mile Road

You gotta live it to feel it, you didn't you wouldn't get it
Or see what the big deal
wanted was a getaway
I'ma take a chance by letting a brook slide for what I got in my hands
I can not agree to follow a leader while on the borderline
in the Benz'o sippin' XO
From the Don to God's Son, the Project Prophet, the live one
The father of Destiny, Knight’s pops, Will’s man
Jungle's
Bitch we dem boyz, nigga we the Beatles
1-8-7 No appeal, get it how you live
Before I go broke accountants jump off a bridge
First round draft pick,
in the Benz'o sippin' XO
From the Don to God's Son, the Project Prophet, the live one
The father of Destiny, Knight’s pops, Will’s man
Jungle's
to con-trol, they study what I said
Dig it - my name is 'Riq, and when I'm on the mic
I'm known to spit somethin' that these MC's hate
I couldn't care less what
came from the corner where nobody got shit
Took the cards I was dealt, turned it into hot spit
Now I'm not only a passenger, I'm in the cockpit
Been
and sharpen up your hunting knives
2 psychopathic lyricists are driving on the hunt tonight
I'm haling from the Essex and the East London boarder line
look at my money, like it's not mitunkne yeah yeah
Homie I come from the street, live my life by the rules
If I owe ya I'm gon' get ya, might be ten
doin' drive-bys man we do a pull up
The nigga on the passenger side automatically die
From several gunshot wounds to the head
On the scene he dead Chopper
I'm seeing children being murdered by police and then acquitted on all charges
It's like they're all targets, pray for them
Pray for everybody

Live
rent paid
Come to think about it, don't you live with your mama?
I don't give a shit when I ride 'round the bottom
Cocaine vet, pedal shifting
to hate?
Loyal to 'em how come I ain't see the plate?
Couldn't see no wrong in people tryna help 'em
Wanna see my youngin's really eatin'
Gold tint in
passengers seat
An I'm Mobb Affiliated
Uh, uh
I know you hate it
I rather be caught
With my heater
Then wit' out my heater
It's juss a misdemenor

I
you can't hear the silence
Even when it's there. Like the wind seen from the window,
Seeing it but not being touched by it.


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Words sometimes