Lyrics:
your trips if your duns come to shoot
Get greeted by a twenty-one gun salute
I keep 'em leery of the deadly '7 MC' theory
Soon as you they hear me, I
clap
Poor snapper, look at shorty shakin' it and makin' it clap
Booty big pokin' out like twenties on the lap
When I give it to her shorty know how
Interlude 5 lyrics: Lauryn Hill MTV Unplugged 2.0
You all doin' alright? You ok? I'm not screamin at ya, I'm just askin you a question. y'all givin'
Ghetto evangelist lyric distortions abortions
Of fortune shit shitting on your ASR 10 Sequence
Fucking up the disc
These be the words blow niggas
come down ruffneck like this now seen?
Mad Lion hold tight
[Chorus]
Brown skin woman, you a queen, not a hoe
Any man that drop the lyric what we
Tazmanian, rebel, new Wu tycoon
Two thousand-five lyrics, you'll catch on soon
New entrepreneur, no match to go to war
On tour, blowin smoke out the four by
century goes by, and then you die
Ask any old dude, he'd say time flew, I'm seventeen, then I blink, now I'm twenty-two
Don't focus on the staircase, just
off these lyrics, sayin' it's gon' be long, uh
You a rat, you know you dead wrong, uh
No collect calls, we do iPhones
All my niggas locked up they
My eye for your eye, that's what the pages read
By any means necessary, that's what Malcolm said
So I'ma a roll like a 20 inch mo-mo
Fuck a lot
up and comes to a stop
Like man what a funny thought the both of them 10 feet apart
It made me think back to a song by Kendrick Lamar
Called how much
-Bust the trust
3 -No More Monopoly
(marching SFX to commence, soft first, rising in volume and tempo to the lyrics)
(beat change) Fanny
To the temple
Yeah, all she need to get by
Cocaine and the WiFi
I swear she do the same shit
But complain about her timeline
Mercedes Benz redlined
Hope you hear
I guess it didn't work on "4 3 2 1"
You got out done by Canibus the young gun
Your last weapon, is to call out Wyclef Jean
Not knowing that you
Don't you know, he was the king of saxophones
Yes indeed he was;
Talkin' 'bout the guy that made it sound so good
Some people knew him by the Bean
Don't you know, he was the king of saxophones
Yes indeed he was;
Talkin' 'bout the guy that made it sound so good
Some people knew him by the Bean
the life I never did
Wanna support my future wife & kids
Not by working a dead end job
Everyone's saying the same thing
I just stop to think
Don't wanna be
wanna take a drive
Forget the highways
Backroads only
All by my lonely
The beats tryin to show me
Lyrics
A vision
A story
A mission
The purpose
I'm given
Middle Aged Crazy
Written by: SONNY THROCKMORTON Lyrics © SonyATV Music Publishing LLC
Today he traded his big '98 Oldsmobile He got a heck
inside, nothin' I'm tryin' to find, I just want to take a drive. Forget the highways. Back roads only, all by my lonely, the beat's tryin' to show me,
mean 50s
Stay plugged in then I throw in midis
Lyrics in my brain thrown in quickly
Second by second quota up with ease
Roll, write up blaze like a drive
yourself by the amount that's on your wrist
Over you do they reminice, I don't know but it's prevalent
Energies we bring's evident I just do this out
Five One Two is the area code
Twenty minutes to the studio I'm ready to go
Coconut water by side, sipping' it slow, and of course
I got the gas
"Nah nigga I just stopped"
20 minutes in the stu' and got a hit made
Y'all call all girls bitches by that logic we all bitch made
If my money jumped into
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lyrics
When I look to the heavens
I see the work of your hands
You light the moon paint the sunrise
With
.jpg/300px-Lyrics_Born_(Australia,_2008).jpg "Lyrics Born")
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