Lyrics:
going
Oh when he's got to Margaret's bower
He's turled low on the pin
Oh wake up, me May Margaret rise up and let me in
Oh who is this at my bower
going
Oh when he's got to Margaret's bower
He's turled low on the pin
Oh wake up, me May Margaret Rise up and let me in
Oh who is this at my bower
Open up my seams to show a broken me
But over me is the inversion that I'm supposed to be
(Sock)
Descending with the view from above
Two ovaries
walk right
I use 2's by 2's
Like I'll you stupid
Toilet paper niggas streets up,
When It's time for me to use it
Take a picture of my hair cut
My
CcOINEcDH
Composed by Leeson O'Keeffe, Marion Gray & Marie McCormack
Leeson plays ccoustic Guitar, Marion plays the Fiddle & Marie plays the Tin
back, like that (yeah, yeah)
Blinded by the glare of the green lights
In the street nights
In my eyes now, balling with my top down
Roof off no closed
drop to your knees
That's the position, assume it bitch
You slip and you're soon to get
Fucked up by a lunatic
Decide to pack a gat
Well that's the way I
within my reach
To tell what really goes on from cells to the streets
Now in LA as you know there's a war going on
And it's been going on since before I
girl tho she a 10 outta 10
On a 1 to 1 don't chat they only know the steps 1 and 2
But 1 needs 3 steps to complete the task he's trying to do
14 tracks
l have been in the worst my nigga
I come from a long way , nothing was handed
I had to get it by my own ways
Remember walking in the streets with
the truck up
O you fucked up !
Yo why you wanna do em all
He said screw em all
Lets black out put 2 in em all
And ruin them all what about the plan man
in Phoenix, had to lay up
Get low for nine months, after they sprayed it up (bah, bah, bah)
They askin', "Who the best?" I'm like, "It may be us"
be -D drive-by
As his mama, daddy screamin', cryin' ask me why
But they don't know that I don't give a fuck
I hope to meet wagon van man hurry up
be -D drive-by
As his mama, daddy screamin', cryin' ask me why
But they don't know that I don't give a fuck
I hope to meet wagon van man hurry up
(testing testing one two)
E-40 alias Mr Flamboyant (Testing testing one two)
1992 Magazine street my sahobs, whats up hillside
(testing testing one two)
the car
Two-two-three, hit the engine block, cut the car off
Bows in the trap, hurry up get them gone
No phones on the drill, leave them bitches at home
bitch out
Every time i step up on the spot your homies dip south
Like they dont want no beef with the squad but the hollow tips out
Spray the venue down
these niggas they plot
They rush up on the block with shots
From fully automatic weaponry
They had to be a least two or three cars deep
Then all
overcame
I'm plugged in Indiana my migo by Notre Dame
You gotta watch the temp when you cookin' turn up the flame
Yeah this the life that I chose hopefully I
Straight outta waff town bitch
Two rollie on my wrist
When i crush up and roll up the weed
You know i came up from the trenches
You know i've been
the doc ain't too late
Sirens all through the city
When they playing with me
That pastor pull up it's a D.O.A. lot
Lil bro just saw his first brain
I get big high if I get a little low
Too low I don't get high
Cause a sober mind in overtime is the only way to get by
To the next level of this game
Visions of success, Two steps ahead chess moves
Crocodile smiles, Eyes open they gon test you
Protected by the most high, That's why they hate you
I
All your bitches they be grooving
In our trap and in our studi-o
My own gansta's paradise
Respect the OG's, rest in peace to Coolio
Up in the club
Colt
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