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Search results for 'punk by 3 feet smaller'

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monkeys
Doin' hip hop hustle, no rock and roll
Unless your name's Brewster, cause Brewster's a Punk (three)
Parents let go cause there's magic in the air
pick up my feet
I'm the center of attraction by staying off the streets"
And I want love
Get some funk and get some fun
Punks like fun
Punks like
tossed
By the mafia king, you were hung by the boss
Havikk, my felonous pitch will lynch a bitch
Smoke and choke any punk on a off-stroke
Cause I provide
on the lil' skinny passenger 
A bitch is screamin in a rage so I blasted her
Smashed and I got about 5 blocks
Before I got stopped by punk ass cops
(Shit,
ass got tossed
By the mafia king, you were hung by the boss
Havikk, my felonious pitch will lynch a bitch
Smoke and choke any punk on a off-stroke
a sucker two in the head, or you'll be dead meat 
I'm sendin' punks six feet deep 
And gettin' money in lumps, cause this ain't Twenty-One Jump Street
One, two, three!
Woo!
You gotta love everybody, make 'em feel good about themselves
You gotta love everybody, make 'em feel good about themselves
jock
Stash my shank underneath the seat
And make sure no blood is on my feet
Punk police want to take me down
They put me on the wall and they shake me
Verse One:

Seven in the morning, standing in the line
three fools in front of me, drinking on some wine
two in the back of me sucking on a joint
you, why should I bother?
What the fuck I need with a punk-ass father

All I need is just another sign
All I want is just some time		(3x)
you to your destiny
Where by other souls are slain
It won't take long
It won't take too long at all
Three men in a desert wandering
One is knowing
Seven in the morning, standing in the line
Three fools in front of me, drinking on some wine
Two in the back of me sucking on a joint
And one in
Boom, every hit don't lie
Pitch you a fit when your shit don't fly
Eat you alive, got that punk,
Spit this fire to the Bizkit funk

Uno, dos, trace in
feet from your body 
Your forty ounce threw way back to the other side of the party 
You was fuckin' with a killa your potnahs tried to tell you 
But
to do with me" and I say,
"You mean to tell me that's all?"
Of three men in a desert wandering, one is knowing and two are
scared
They say time is in
There was a guy at my school when I was in high school
We'd ride side by side in the morning on our bicycles
Never even spoken or faced each other
me
That faggot that punk he soft or sissy
I driving around with three of my guys
The war is on and I'm on the rise
We rolled right up to dogg's
make big bucks servin' up punk ducks
By the pound, I got the sound
I never been checked, I only get wrecked
I kick the willy drag, let my pants sag
Don't
Once upon a time in the sha there was three real killas who bust guns and puff fire
They cut weight by the key and baggin' every gram
Instead? bustin'
chill
Don't nobody touch him 'cause Imma get ill
The boy's phony as a three-dollar bill
And this time I shoot to kill
Just like a sucker you took the bait
Early in the morning and I'm in my ride
Rolling to the garage with the homeboy, getting high
Rolling down the calle in my rag sixty-three
Looking
never know how you say it
I was 3 feet away from X pushing up daisys

[chorus 2x]
and fuck these hoes, have em' waitin by the phone hopin they get chose.
All you punk ass niggas be player hatin'.
Cause I'm makin this money strait
(word?)
But if you don't learn you flunk
On a road to sleep, forever on a jail bunk (all day)
But I ain't no punk, and I won't get punked
by the system, so
There was a guy at my school when I was in high school
We'd ride side by side in the morning on our bicycles
Never even spoken or faced each other