Search results for room number 9 by 24 7 spyz

We've found 35 lyrics, 35 artists, and 100 albums matching room number 9 by 24 7 spyz:



handyman's waitin' and he'll be right there there
24 hours, 7 days a week
If it's getting clogged up or maybe starting to leak
Just ring up my number
Baby
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

It's the ten crack commandments, what?
Nigga can't tell me nothing about this coke
Can't tell me nothing about this
on
24-7, from dusk til dawn
If you're in Costa Rica on a sunlit beach
You greed for the Phifer, I can be reached
A number of importance, I just put it
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

It's the ten crack commandments, what?
Nigga can't tell me nothing about this coke
Can't tell me nothing about this
Stand in your lobby unsuspected, you get neglected 
Traffic was hectic

Order room service, transfer quick to Holiday Inn 
Check out time nine
three, four, five, six, seven, eight, 
Nine, dek, el, 
Doh. Dek and el being two entirely new signs 
Meaning ten and 
Eleven. Single digits! And his
a y'all
By the time I started rhymin' in the late eighties
The drugs in Cali was crazy

[Chali 2na]
Nine-teen eighty
Nine's the number this is
what can I say half way there with no sweat in sight he swung once again and knocked them down with all of his might 7,8,9, without a problem the room
releasing
Atoms by the millions, til the numbers increasing
Til it was burning he kept returning itself to the source
The hotter his thoughts it gave
hustle the fame nigga, most of the game
Put it down in the street for mine
24/7, stayin on the grind
For days and days I shell at the cops
Enough
A crime wave of gangster-made criminals
Liftin a skit to your dome, I'm relentless, shit
Cock the nine and laugh when I blast this shit
Cause your ass got
a hundred twenty three nine hundred and ninety nine
thousand convicts
Wanted by the beast in the hellified streets
With nullified beef and combat swamp rats
like a seven day old balloon dog
I still hang band posters and buy black-lights
Crib decorated like a dorm room at Brandeis
Still pretend I'm gonna
that real Gs to go heaven
So I'ma keep spittin' the truth on these fools like a reverend
Stay open like 7/11 that's 24/7, when you need some hot shit
and the chest of drawers are telling her to go outdoors
He should have been here by this time, he said that he'd be here by nine
That guy is such a prick
them wakes is replaced by daisies

[Chorus]

[Royce Da 5'9" (Amerie)]
(Sometimes I want to cry) Asking myself why
Is it when fake niggas collide
fear
I snatched your heart
Put it way up on the chart
At ten you're fucked
At nine you suck
At eight you're a sucker
At seven-a mothafucka
At six
Shyheim (T.M.F. #2)
Twenty-seven (Yea, yea, yea, yea)
Wu-Tang (Stapleton, Killarmy)
Shyheim (T.M.F., Trife the under structure)
Word (What's
they talkin' 'bout man, okay

I'm comin' straight up outta that chat room, and live from the message board
I'm at the crib all by myself, chattin'
from the hospital
Somebody named Dr. Evans
Telling me that my lovely Heather was in room 311
So pedal to the metal I got there in seven seconds
She's
that real Gs to go heaven
So I'ma keep spittin' the truth on these fools like a reverend
Stay open like 7/11 that's 24/7, when you need some hot shit
you to make your move 

But no longer will I be told regroup 

Let's play house 

Chorus: Daz, Michel'le, Nate Dogg 

Engine engine number nine
and everybody crowd to eat
24/7, no time to sleep
A g and up, reign up, 3 times a week

Throwing numbers on the strip
The youngin' out the clique
Moves like
that real Gs to go heaven
So I'ma keep spittin' the truth on these fools like a reverend
Stay open like 7/11 that's 24/7, when you need some hot shit
Mastermind, holdin through crimes
Seen my fams Hill and Pah lowered in the ground
Hold my crown, hold my nine
Me and mama down ya shine, waited too long