Search results for 'give the little man a hand by johnny clarke' Page #190

your hand
I know, It seems like lust, give me a chance and I'll earn your trust!
There's no right or wrong in this game of love; to win it all takes iron

think I don't think of you now and then 

Ok look Ask you to join me on my conquest 
Take my hand I need to make me a promise 
If I give you my heart

And listen 
Dissing on the beat 
Will have yo main mans missing 
Talking bout throw the hands 
Like they block ain't full of pistols 
Things go sour 
Niggas

Class is in session
We begin with some gin
A little bit of vodka
Shots, shots, shots
Like my man Lil' John said
Tossin' back tequila baby
We don't need no

sound too good
He like, "All I wanted was a little respect"
"Shorty won't put up for rent or go half on a check"
"And Lil man won't listen, after I

and he was saying, that he was down with Shaquan
and if he didn't get a green Jaguar, then it was on
he was mad, cuz his man, was living larger
and he was

calling me
bill collectors calling me, everybody calling me
They got they hands out and I ain't shit to give em
If I ain't my kids you would have found me

gone
When we sang a sweeter song
When one hand washed the other
Single man and single mother

But since her child went away
She's been drinking every day

hand, Prophet)
Solemnly swear to tell the truth anytime
I'm in the booth talking like it's me and you
While I'm still being me give an image to the youth

don't give a
That gone flip
The truth hurts just a little bit
Caught in the middle like a riddle
Now his bubble bursting
But she's urging
For an erotic

life
Like you pausing on the game
Since he want clout
We gone give that nigga a frame
For fifty seconds of fame
He sliding through all the lanes
Aye aye,

your man 
Everything is from the heart and what my hands can stand 
I’d give you the ocean, but you say you hate sand 
I don’t understand 
Tell me, tell

Burn on the cross like the man you tried to misrepresent
The eye of the camel is slim, and you're gettin' fat
The rack don't give a fuck about the fat

sick
The type nigga
Make them hundred rounds
Hit who they gon hit
He don't give a shit
That nigga gon flip
The truth hurts just a little bit
Caught in

Bust the ceiling i ain't got a limit I'm just trying to finish
I got a spot and you got a little spot if I'm trailing i don't need your digits
I'm

It's Anna Greene you know what it is
All the hoes call me Peach, that's just how I live
Beats by Cap, don't it slap? I know you hear this shit
Might

She can sit my babies
I need me bout 80
Bands
Put it in my hands
Why she think she can act hot Girl summerish
And still call me her man
That's insane

hoes
All of my money it come from the snow
Way that you're doing that give me a heart attack
Take my hand baby no turning back
I spent two thousand for

still have this,  
Then go get back to me    
  
Oh my god man I got a little nausea  
Let me think what I have   
Nobody’s talking now  
Then I turn

I reprimand your piece
Assault another man for keys
Call my homie for the freeze
So I can get some white up in my nostrils
Call a little slut and put

Hustle O (Meds)
By Ojeda Jarrett (Ojeda DOC AKA O da D.O.C)

Verse 1:
Excuse me i grew up poor
So a lot of these luxuries
I can't ignore 
Seh

digress, getting shit off of my chest
Still I’m remaining the man
Giving my best, God take care all of the rest
Leaving this shit in her hands
You heard that

me and my team go and run it up, 2x
Aye I might make a trip out to Japan,
Just because i can im the real dirty dan,
Couple bottles in my hands aye

She on her grind
That irregular itch
She said “look alive”
With a smile on her lips
I gave her a kiss, put my hand on her hips

I told lil mami she