Search results for one last memory by rico j puno

We've found 26 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching one last memory by rico j puno:


Albums:

Un Puño de Tierra (Ramón Ayala) · Puno de Tierra (Antonio Aguilar) · De Mi Puño y Letra (Carlos Baute) · De Mi Puño y Letra (Carlos Baute) · De Mi Puño y Letra (Carlos Baute) · Two for One: Last One Picked/Karaoke Superstars (Superchick) · In Tribute and Loving Memory... Volume One (Mandy Mercier) · Clasicos de Puerto Rico, Vol. 9 (El Gran Combo de Puerto Rico) · Live: June 11-1994, Puerto Rico (Fania All-Stars) · Desde Puerto Rico Live (Tito "El Bambino" El Patron ) – and 90 other albums »


Verse One: Tash 

I knew this nigga by the name of Captain Hook 

Who had a record deal but no lyrics in his book 

But everywhere you looked
of 14 I was already knockin' off punks (yeah!)
And suckers were scared to death, every time I walked by 
I hear them niggaz take their last breath
they was combat boots
they fit my feet like Cinderella when I'm shooting hoops
Why oh why do memories keep chasing me 
sometimes it makes me want to grab
of the evidence
It's over, she's gone for good
Why should I lie, singin' a killer's lullaby
Identified by the dying ring of her goodbye
The last thing you hear
love my enemy
You could never take my history
You could never block my destiny
Never did love follow me
And I'll never return to poverty
Never fooled by
of the evidence
It's over, she's gone for good
Why should I lie, singin' a killer's lullaby
Identified by the dying ring of her goodbye
The last thing you hear
of the evidence
It's over, she's gone for good
Why should I lie, singin' a killer's lullaby
Identified by the dying ring of her goodbye
The last thing you hear
of the evidence
It's over, she's gone for good
Why should I lie, singin' a killer's lullaby?
Identified by the dying ring of her goodbye
The last thing you hear
of the evidence
It's over, she's gone for good
Why should I lie, singin' a killer's lullaby
Identified by the dying ring of her goodbye
The last thing you hear
nåt jättemalle.
1-2.
Do kan dra ner pianot tror jag för det är väldigt vasst I öronen.
Vasst.
Vasst.
Väldigt
'm drunk I sing a song like this
My grandma and your grandma urrp
Sittin' by the fire
Hold on, turn the beat off (nah, keep it goin'
(J-ro can you make
face make one little weathermen sharpen the blades.

chorus

and the last shall be, first to the curb with the mad cow meat, face in the bars
of the evidence
It's over, she's gone for good
Why should I lie, singin' a killer's lullaby?
Identified by the dying ring of her goodbye
The last thing you hear
of the evidence
It's over, she's gone for good
Why should I lie, singin' a killer's lullaby
Identified by the dying ring of her goodbye
The last thing you hear
And Grandma Bell how the heel ain't see me fly
It was yo' guidance that help you get yo' baby by

I take one day at a time and watch my every self
Uncle,
fought that dude
I read the paper it said the pigs caught that dude
Its sad another black man taking by a black hand
Wish your last night in the club we
lacks on point you wrong you won't last
I'm up on a good foot you're out on a bad note
I'm dope
Ice
Fresh
Automatic oh yes
Creatively talkin' about
da ninety-five
Just like last year
You can't fuck wit us
Bitch!

Hehe, you dumbass

Yeah Juicy "J" aka da juice up in this bitch and I'm out
our first or last, but by nicknames
Dreamer, Peewee, Oso Negro to name a few
One passed away, rest in peace
The others locked away in prison blues
our first or last, but by nicknames
Dreamer, Peewee, Oso Negro to name a few
One passed away, rest in peace
The others locked away in prison blues
These are the rough times, best to hurry up
And duck muh'fucker 'fore I buck mine
It's gettin' crazy and everybody's strapped
Surrounded by niggaz but
balls wet
I'm a monster, these other niggas small pets
Claim they sick but they get cured by your dog's vet
I'm thorough from my Yank' to my gourtex
These are the rough times, best to hurry up
And duck muh'fucker 'fore I buck mine
It's gettin' crazy and everybody's strapped
Surrounded by niggaz but
Now you in church, four days later obituary reading
Test me, lets see am I hard like I claim to be
Stomach scarred from the gang activity
Just a memory
life on the real
We the Last Poets so this is a world premiere
Rolling like Mick Jagger, the women just getting badder
All I see is the money, cream,