Lyrics:
Ay whatchu want
What it take
Day by day
Time alone
I’m afraid
To make promise
I got closet
I got bones
Fuck yo flowers
I got trunks
How ya feel
Is
to get my roll on
On a Jesus songs on, make them bitches get low
I get that ass raised up, like Dr. Dre six four
Hey, come up in my hood, bet them
riches
Ayo, I'm Murphey Lee the
Schoolboy, the civilized jewel boy
I got not one, two, three, four, five
But six whores
For equality, Vokal, Cammy,
a monitor in the hallway
I'm all day on the grind with a 4-way
Young Gucci Mane got a style so strange
Every word I use might mean two thangs
Young Gucci
his Daytons in his hand
Keys in his hand, reason again to let you know he's the man
Back when we rocked Ellesses, he had dreams of Caprices
Drove by
Of violence, and assultry done.
The scenic, view of carnage
Caused by, the sore in his hands
The beauty resonates in birth.
Its plain to see, the wind
He want smoke
I pull up, lock him
In the trunk
And then I'm back
To pouring fours
Yeah
I'm steady trapping
On the low
Could give a fuck
About a hoe
But
Yeah
Stomp a nigga in my 4s
Real nigga to the core
Why these niggas moving salty and jealous?
I think cause I fucked all they whores
Baby, come hop
ass raised up, like Dr. Dre six four
Hey, come up in my hood, bet them bitches know Tip
If you tell 'em you wit' him, all them bitches gon' strip
If
Or freaking off for the week
Top flow in the trunk
Just laying back blowing
Twenty five's a skull
The Akitas by the door with bow ties and puffs
Can't let
Ima flame something
My rap skills on Dwayne Johnson
Don't try me nigga you cant buy me nigga
I'm CEO you niggaz CB4
And I'm legendary, niggaz heard
Westside nigga
This that westcoast you missin
Keep my shit hittin
Speakers in the trunk for the bitches
Keep my fingers twistin
This that westcoast
llao (weed)
Said dey want to get good shit for da low-low
Fred grew-up wit dis nigga by da bayou
Could be da po-po, dats da way my mind think
Thought
I got hard lines
DMV
I got a level that can't be reached by those in DBZ
I just eat like I just got EBT
I am OCD about my pockets reaching obesity
and the
blend, with the soldier grin
Rolling by the sto' with the 4-0,
sitting in my lap like Ice Cube way back when
But we too grown, so we roll by a hoe in
eyes
Crawling on fours, every time I slide by
Nothing less than the truth, on the streets of the South
Hos on my swag 'cause the diamonds in my mouth
eyes
Crawling on fours, every time I slide by
Nothing less than the truth, on the streets of the South
Hos on my swag 'cause the diamonds in my mouth
eyes
Crawling on fours, every time I slide by
Nothing less than the truth, on the streets of the South
Hos on my swag 'cause the diamonds in my mouth
like my riches
A yo, I'm Murphey Lee the school boy
The civilized jewel boy
I got not one, two, three, four, five, but six whores
For equality, Vokal,
to bang the fours
Catch you by your Range door
Pistol spank your whore
Strip, change some more
You up in the crib with the
Bitch slippin' your brains galore
up and then "Who me?"
Locked in a trunk by Republican villains
Pinstripe suits, experts at killin
Civil war, but some want out
Trapped in a box
in this place, I'm choked by my own air
I love the taste of your blackened lips
It's 4 am and we will stalk again
The princess and your bitter queen
i'll rock nations just gotta bomb harder
True history in the making
Those 4 letters that i live by so the mystery is vacant nigga! Ty!
Ayo ty, wassup!
One night got me two hoes
Two hoes got me four bottles
Four bottles cost me eight racks, all of that I'll make back tomorrow
Eight racks cost me four
Discuss these 4 the trunk by carnage Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In