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Albums:

Shoot Out the Lights [Deluxe Edition] (Richard Thompson) · Shoot Out at the Fantasy Factory (Traffic) · Shoot Out the Lights (Richard Thompson) · Shoot Out at the Fantasy Factory (Traffic) · Shoot Out the Lights (Richard Thompson) · Shoot Out at the Fantasy Factory (Traffic) · Shoot It Out (10 Years) · Shoot Out the Lights (Richard Thompson) · Shoot Out the Lights (Richard Thompson) · Shoot Out the Lights [Bonus Track] (Richard Thompson) – and 90 other albums »


your camera phone on it's a photo shoot

Me and Boosie smoking fruity
It look like a photo shoot
Shout out to my nigga Webbie, my hoes independent too
Me
a window pane 
With twenty bars, I'm sinister God, administer pain 
To your paragraph it ain't hard, see I studied the life-science 
For years in this,
running this show and it's live in here
You try to escape another five years
I got you trapped and I'm your savior
You dance real hard you might get out
all eternity

You think you're ready, but you're not prepared
When you hear the sound

[Repeat x3]
Look out

Send you to Heaven and shoot you
Fahrenheit
LA County got work in Slawson
We get it poppin'
Back to Roxbury in Boston
The streets love me
See they named me coca
The Puerto Rican version
different person
Started smokin', started drinkin', started cursin'
Went from pg to the x rated version
She used to be a mormon
Now she on the pole
And it ain't my night to get buried in the dirt
But it is your day to get buried by a verse,
It'll be another ten years before you see an MC Ren here,
no matter what it was we were side-by-side.
You know the type you see getting it in a 
photo booth, matching shirts, flea market, photo shoots
[Lil Wayne]
Fuck with me, you know what it is

[Chorus: x2]
I shoot your arm, leg, leg, arm, head
The heater burner bruisa is on my hip this
old Two winters spun out summer's threads in rich and creamy folds She recalled the soil and cotton seeds and summer's hopeful shoots And she had a bolt
I haven't seen him for a year.
 Is it true that young Forbes had to marry that Faggot
 He met in the Vale of Kashmir?
 Have you had any news
to do a drive-by tonight, that's why we tint these nigga
Heard shots rang out, just riding on my 10 speed
Seen the windows down and the bitch squeezed
don't care what you think about me, but just remember,
When it hits the fan brother, whether it's next year, ten years,
Twenty years from now, you're
Fahrenheit
LA County got work in Slawson
We get it poppin'
Back to Roxbury in Boston
The streets love me
See they named me coca
The Puerto Rican version
don't care what you think about me, but just remember,
When it hits the fan brother, whether it's next year, ten years,
Twenty years from now, you're
but just remember
When it hits the fan brother, whether it's next year, ten years
Twenty years from now, you're gonna be able to say
That these brothers
don't care what you think about me, but just remember,
When it hits the fan brother, whether it's next year, ten years,
Twenty years from now, you're
no matter what it was we were side-by-side.
You know the type you see getting it in a 
photo booth, matching shirts, flea market, photo shoots
Police know, but just couldn't figure me out
I'm like {?}, have 'em makin pies in the house
It's grill, spit fire like I never been out
And I ain't gon'
drive-by's, we park in front of houses and shoot
And when the police come we fuckin' shoot it out with them too!
That's the mentality here (here) that's
on his Compton hat
Told me when I got older I would understand that
It's blood in blood out and ain't no turnin' back
Few summers went by and we moved
know
Exactly all the things I feel
Not just a maybe
But baby, I'm for real

?Cause I've been wishin' on the stars and hopin'
Just as it shoots
to get buried in the dirt
But it is your day to get buried by a verse,
It'll be another ten years before you see an MC Ren here,
Where he been, I been
We bring the thug shit for real nigga
You know how we do
Y'all know how a nigga bring it
Straight direct at you kid

Like a Don from out
Police know, but just couldn't figure me out
I'm like {?}, have 'em makin pies in the house
It's grill, spit fire like I never been out
And I ain't gon'