Search results for message in a bottle new classic rock mix by the police

We've found 140 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching message in a bottle new classic rock mix by the police:



and twenty the bottles the bottles of, beer! 
Now if the one of the one bottles of bottles of 
Happened to happened to fall 
We'll bring the rock with
loyal nigga fronted one kept owing
For every bitch I showed the way it's one that kept hoe'in
So let's blow through this money as we pour bottles
Let
on the crusty eye, bagel with some butterflies
Spit gritty like we in MCA's voice box
Y'all bull and my ox don't fit the mix

(Disc jock)
It be some classic
"Fuck The Police".
'Cause it's hard for a nigga to get peace.
Now it's broken and can't be fixed.
'Cause police and little black niggers don't mix so
Now
a straight up menace
Run up in ya crib there's a safe up in it
New York City y'all ain't safe up in it
Y'all niggas fugaze, my niggas authentic
The game
he hits the mic like Mix-master
This the Battle of Troy with no Pastor
Slicker than a can of oil with no Castor
Chill in the front of the flight,
louie bag on your neck
Baby remember before you had shoes
When yo’ life was filled with nothing but bad news
See everything I rock and wear is handmade
usually not good
Cause I freeze with my hands on a hot hood.
And getting' jacked by the you-know-who.
When in a black and white the capacity is two.
soul
And wouldn't change by the change, or the game, or the fame
When he came in the game, he made his own lane
Now all I need is y'all to pronounce
usually not good
Cause I freeze with my hands on a hot hood.
And getting' jacked by the you-know-who.
When in a black and white the capacity is two.
inside the shoebox
Don't keep jack in my lab, don't wanna see 2Pac
Got two spots, a new lot, flooded with rocks
Shoot-outs making me hot, crooked cops
my lab, don't wanna see 2Pac
Got two spots, a new lot, flooded with rocks
Shoot-outs making me hot, crooked cops Bad Tony and the ball drop
In
that brooklyn shit
It's the day

Yeah we gonna da that shit
We gonna give it to them in style right'
Yeah yeah

China, who we rock one for
Who we rock
can't decide, not even to die dignified
They dial nine nine nine, but I'd commit no crime; I'm stuck in time and I'm petrified
"Don't mix the seed!
somethin, start fightin
I rock, I roll
Tear this motherfucker up  let's get ready to rumble!

Bats and pipes  broken bottles, glass, and knives 
Jump in
your roof drop
House shoes, blue top, money like I move rocks
Dissin' will get you socked, and yo' bitch move wop
Whole crew popped, by this old
ate his way up from the bottom of the food chain.
Keep the crown, clown, I rock an LA Dodger Fitted,
I showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was
soul
And wouldn't change by the change, or the game, or the fame
When he came in the game, he made his own lane
Now all I need is y'all to pronounce
and get by
No peace for the beast we police and shine the light
Culture vanish on the television pimpin' those
On "Cribs" in a home that they never own
She wants I man I can look up to, a mentor-- Fuck you!
Get your things packed
Yes kids, the poison is the message in the bottle
Before the dawn she'll
this all the time at the past, no doubt about that
A 1969 vintage bottle of red wine in my hand
Who is that by the checkstand?
With the tall brown tan
the last one, cause a mistake none
But something new was needed in the mix to
Make it as lethal, so lethal that I would think you
Couldn't be made to invade
on the V
Wallin' in the whip, let's talk politics
They say niggas from New York is saw by the flip

I got gas in the range, cash on the chain
And I'm flying
inside the shoebox
Don't keep jack in my lab, don't wanna see 2Pac
Got two spots, a new lot, flooded with rocks
Shoot-outs making me hot, crooked cops
of the food chain
Keep the crown clown I rock a L.A. Dodger fitted
Showed my ass at Summer Jam but New York was down wit' it
Now the ball's in my court never