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Search results for 'perfect bitch by bullets and octane'

Yee yee! We've found 27 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching perfect bitch by bullets and octane.


Albums:

Bitch Bitch Bitch (Rudiments) · Bitch Bitch Bitch (Rudiments) · High Octane Cult (The Cult) · Octane Twisted (Porcupine Tree) · Octane (Spock's Beard) · Hi-Octane Hard-Driving Hits for the Roadious (Hutchinson, Hutch) · Octane [Bonus Disc] (Spock's Beard) · Bullets and Bankruptcy (Baran) · Bullets and Diamonds: The Best of Aslan (Aslan) · Mixing Bullets and Firing Joints (Grandmaster Flash) – and 90 other albums »


brain is on high octane
Ripping like a rocket man
Block it try to stop it man
You'll end up in my pocket man
Bust like a bullet in a watermelon
jewelry customized by my artist
Six months locked, got a head start bitch
I was nigga rich befo' I ever got a rap check
Yellow Corvette same color Moet
makes perfect but nobody's perfect, ooh
Escobar is not open for service, ooh
Send you to Dr. Miami for your surgery, ooh

Okay, you popped up on me by
a bitch with a .38 bullet slug
Sell your drugs I don't care if you a dope dealer
Best pack a pistol bitch cause I'm a killer

[Chorus: x2]

You say I
I've pushed out
I'm the type to have a bullet-proof condom and still gotta pull out
But that's just me, and I ain't perfect, I ain't a saint but I am
the see-P-T
'Cause you're gettin' fucked out your green by a white boy
With no Vaseline

("Now you're gettin' done without Vaseline")
("Now you're gettin'
You know the motherfucker did it

[Judge] 
Well the court sentences you to death by electric chair

(Some guy laughs)

[Bizzy Bone]
We had
the bitch I am, payed it no mind
Gave niggaz that then hoped in the ride
Pulled out the heat from under the seat
Make sure the doors locked and the guns
some scandalous hoes in my eye sight
Now being the bitch I am, payed it no mind
Gave niggaz that then hoped in the ride

Pulled out the heat from under
an introspect
Crown me king to the death, karma bring bullet deaths
Then he got with me with the Henny breath

You see I never called you my bitch or even my
to bust any bitch
That I, want and I need and I have
A lot of y'all want to come by the pad
And walk on my marble floor
Just to say you blew with
a G-4 private jet
Bet you get more than grazed by the nine
Laid by the side
Oh you out of bullets? Here, take some of mine
And clowns hate how I lock
as well be
It's what's next and shit
I live life filthy
We sexed every bitch in the gutter
Then we rob or mudda
Find a shutta
And shoot fo or fo each
nightmare squared
That's double for niggas who ain't mathematically aware

I can tell by how you write, you the type to run in a fight
I hold mics while
see'mon!
Hey yo, I pull up so aggressive nigga, hopping out the thing
Ice dripping wet like I just hopped up out the rain
My picture perfect pose like I
detector go off
This that sauce, this that dressing
Givenchy, nigga God bless you
If having a bad bitch was a crime
I'd be arrested (True)

Got
invade Helen of Troy
Single dominant A-male, getting pussy by mistake
How much hate mail can one pretty nigga generate?
Wasn't delicious bullets missing me
pussy"
I just sat back, my legs started shakin'
Now here's another stupid bitch that I be breakin'
I grabbed the slimmy by her hand, and lead her
To bed with me each night, 
Kept it clean, 
Polished it well, 
Cherished every cartridge every shell,
 
Down, 
By the creek, 
Under brush, 
Under
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Crucified by your lies
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Crucified like Jesus Christ

Hi, my name is Jesus like the man that was
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Crucified by your lies
Whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Crucified like Jesus Christ

Hi, my name is Jesus like the man that was
a fuckin fox 
You understand my game 
With me and you its all the same 
I call you by your nickname 
You never sweat me when i'm out with my crew
fucker (Still thuggin)
You know The Outlawz in this bitch (hahah.. it's on)

[Napolean - Verse 1]
Once again
Another fat nigga fried
Do a drive-by if you
in, I prepared half a potion.
Now you must do the other half.
You must get seven part-silver curses made special out of bullet bits 
By some Pollock
lethal plus we taking over
I’m getting older so I live by the new slogan
That Philly shit the barrel smoke will leave your head open
It’s open season