Search results for rain on haterz by east flat general

We've found 17 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching rain on haterz by east flat general:



and should be drawn
Like if he had a shotgun
The barrels would be sawn

Swallowed by the river
Swollen by the rains
That leakin' ol' computer
The general synopsis at 0800

Low east of Humber 942 expected fair isle 954 by 0600 tomorrow. 
New low expected 100 miles west of Shannon 974 by same time
Than I stomp your corpse, it's the Bronx of course
Recognize the acsent, one of the last livin' still in action
General assassin', catchin' an erect,
stomp your corpse, it's the Bronx of course
Recognize the acsent, one of the last livin' still in action
General assassin', catchin' an erect, blastin'
Cause you're body might wash up by the courts at Venice Beach,
Ain't shit sweet but my Swisher, ain't shit buzzin' but my liquor,
Cali chickens got
started thumbin' back East, toward my home town

Made a lot of miles, the first two days
And I figured I'd be home in week, if my luck held out this way
started thumbing back east toward my hometown
Made a lot of miles the first two days
I figured I'd be home in a week if my luck held this way
But the third
slicker than your sista'. 
Turn down the lights she got hit by the vicksta. 
Keep a lid on your lip so your wig won't get split. 
Better have your joint
I started thumbin' back East, toward my home town.

Made a lot of miles, the first two days 
And I figured I'd be home in week, if my luck held out
Well you see I happened to be back on the east coast
A few years back tryin' to make me a buck
Like everybody else, well you know
Times get hard
I started thumbin' back East, toward my home town.

Made a lot of miles, the first two days 
And I figured I'd be home in week, if my luck held out
potent (Uh, Six Mill) East coastin', try to hide..

[Chorus: you-God]
All the pain inside
I had to face it that one day I'm gonna die
That's why I try
body might wash up by the courts at Venice Beach,
Ain't shit sweet but my Swisher, ain't shit buzzin but my liquor,
Cali chickens got to the 80's strip
huh--homie what
East coast get ready--dirty south get ready--west coast get ready--playa huh--homie what
Fed up wit you thuggs--goin head up wit you
than now
No more hurts. no more work by the sweat of your brow
No more drunk drivers drivin all out of control
No more flats and being stuck
east
While you're left to explain them to me
Released from their hairless and blind cavalry

With your hands in your pockets, stubbily running
Well you see I happened to be back on the east coast
A few years back tryin' to make me a buck
Like everybody else, well you know
Times get hard