Search results for one your name alternate take by swedish house mafia

We've found 1,041 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching one your name alternate take by swedish house mafia:


Albums:

The Sound of Swedish House (Hutchinson, Hutch) · The Sound Of Swedish House: Unmixed For DJ’s (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Take Care Take Care Take Care (Explosions in the Sky) · Take Care, Take Care, Take Care (Explosions in the Sky) · Take Care, Take Care, Take Care (Explosions in the Sky) · Take a Picture [Alternate Tracks] (Margo Guryan) · My Name Is My Name (Pusha T) · What's Your Name What's Your Number (Andrea True) · One Night of Sin [Alternate Cover] (Joe Cocker) · On Your Side [Alternate Tracks] (Magnet) – and 90 other albums »


PVC
And the I'll film it all up on my J.V.C.

Scene one
Everybody get in your positions
Pay attention, and listen
We're tryna get this all in one take
PVC
And the I'll film it all up on my J.V.C.

Scene one
Everybody get in your positions
Pay attention, and listen
We're tryna get this all in one take
PVC
And the I'll film it all up on my J.V.C.

Scene one
Everybody get in your positions
Pay attention, and listen
We're tryna get this all in one take
all you bitches
To beware of the game
I'm tellin' all you niggaz
To beware of the lames
I freak your baby mama
Put her on the house
I got my dick
love him, yell his name..

I'd rather die on my feet, than live on my knees
Nigga please, I cock and squeeze for..

Mafia

For BIG I grip the cig,
Inglewood
Blood, tell 'em your name
Lil' Hawk Red Riding Hood
The C.M.G. is the hood that I clizzaim
D.L.B. Mafia/Lanes and ain't shit changed
You Ricket
Snooze motherfucker 

Move motherfucker 

Loose motherfucker 

Put your face down to the floor 

And don't you take a look up 

I heard about what you
love him, yell his name..

I'd rather die on my feet, than live on my knees
Nigga please, I cock and squeeze for..

Mafia

For BIG I grip the cig,
friends I know them hoes will miss you
You should have warned them that the Three 6 Mafia out to get cha
Would you walk to his house with a pistol
Could you
I'm your Reiseführer. Gimme the drums!
Sitting in a coffee-house
Drink Martini dry
Julius Caesar
Mighty Mouse
Watchinq girls go by.
Palms are
ate, sweeter than sugar pussy your dick faced

{Joe Mafia}
I answer this, many late nights, puffin on cancer sticks
On hell with this shit, sometimes I
inside playing quarters
And he said, "Don't you know the game Kazaam? It's a better game,
You point your elbow at someone and say somebody else's name
Stranger livin' in my house I'm writing this letter to you
There's a few odds and ends in my house that I neglected to do
Take care of the little
by none
The others act in fact ya just wack I kill
why?
because its fun my son and Run heads the bill!

Who's house?
Run's house!

Who's house?
Run's
the smoke and flame called my name
It was a burning house of love

that rusty nail over our front door
Is where I hung our tears in the rain
I threw that
champagne?
Relax, take your coat off, and let me get your name
I love that hour glass shape you got upon that frame
I like the way you talk your game, we
champagne?
Relax, take your coat off, and let me get your name
I love that hour glass shape you got upon that frame
I like the way you talk your game, we
nigga, me too"
what the fuck, I'm callin' your bluff, niggas act like they stopped
makin' guns after they made yours
I'm sponsored by the NRA, DOA rules
straight up, I can't knock ya
After Big Poppa, fuck all of Junior M.A.F.I.A.
The whole clique, dick sucked, ass licked
Leave your number by the phone,
straight up, I can't knock ya
After Big Poppa, f*** all of Junior M.A.F.I.A.
The whole clique, dick sucked, a** licked
Leave your number by the phone,
licked
Leave your number by the phone, bring your ass on home
I roam in Lexuses and Benzes, the fly way
With the flyest bitch getting head
blossom in the market square?
Do you remember, I thought it was confetti in our hair?
By the way didn't I break your heart?
Please excuse me, I never
come with a chrome y'all can makin' hoes pay the cost
Infrared to ya head full of lead yawkin' lames
You can betcha by the dollar that I'm spittin'
Murder rap shit, I spit, for the vets who love it

By the time you read this letter
Your head gon' fly off your shoulder for lying
And I'm a be in bed
Yo!
John.
What's up?
Yo, I'm going to put the song about your house on the album. Is that cool?
Uh  Yeah, I just don't want to have any, like,