Lyrics:
back
I said you can bring that round whenever
Help me undo my brown and leather belt
Pull down these trousers by yourself
I know you don't need no help
scratches you, 'specially if you black dude
They don't give a shit unless the accused just happen to rap
And they can look good by painting him as bad news
flipping bricks
They chatting shit
Man I put a O on the strip and trust me by my word yeh I pebbled every bit
M-man take a flight head down to the coast
Man
the navy
And that good Sunday dinner of hot chicken and dumplings and gravy
And that new preacher you sent us Lord he's sure a fine young man
Why he's
Foenem yellin', "Go" like the light turned green, boy (ayy, go, go)
Yeah, them ass shots good, but I need you on your knees
Spray one of these stankin'
rebuild, your man's bionic
Put your trust in me, I never let you down
I always come up with a way to checkmate these clowns
I effeminate these clowns,
lookin' for?
Can't a young man get money anymore?
Let my pants sag down to the floor
Really do it matter as long as I score?
Can't my car look
lookin' for?
Can't a young man get money anymore?
Let my pants sag down to the floor
Really do it matter as long as I score?
Can't my car look
on the leather, and rubbed the wood
See we got models in Texas, so man that body looks good
From G County to Houston to Dallas, Austin, Abilene
P.A., Laredo, S.A.
Birds of a feather flock together and you winging it
Man this shit is for the birds and I need a brick
Quick, a 28 by 36
Man this shit is for
Bitch I been fed
Eastside
Talk that shit good
Bitch I slang wood out the circle drive
Niggas know how it go
I gave em four years to get it right
When you
you even enjoying
Am I coming off white or annoying
Can't stop overthinking
Found out we lose braincells by blinking
Every thought is a thought followed
ain't backing down for nothing
I'ma back em down like Shaq with this black 2-2-3 in my hand
Better pray that this chopper jam like a radio single, man
announcements
Fuck yo name and how you pronounce it
I'm good at math, I don't need accountants
Don't trust niggas, I watch my surroundings
You capped out, man
She fuckin' everybody's man ain't nobody safe out here watch out!
I fuckin' warned you bitch
You wanna fuck my man when you knew about me?
Running some
All negatives around me yeah they gotta go
Relationships I lost while I been in album mode
All for a purpose dawg and the greater good
Been
you know how I get with these macks and these techs
Blaze 'em down gives a fuck about the next nigga rep
Play around find yourself getting' cheated by
the first house on the left
And get it, got it good
You made it, I knew you would
We got them drinks up in the back and them chic-key's looking good
Hold
Ain't no love in Oakland, bitch
Niggas always talkin bout 'I love you'
But ain't no love, bitch
Now it's a shame, I can't be saved by John
finished
Turn the block to holy ground, the choppas'll hold me down (hold me down)
Big boats, all white like Bobby Brown (grr)
Thick smoke, they smell it
get around
Downtown bums get clowned
If you find me face down I don't give a fuck
Cause me and the homes get buck
We gon' party like we don't give
So money watch your mouth, or I'mma have to bust ya
Battling MC's, from JFK to Russia
Back down to London, Sweden and Brazil
Do a U.S. tour for three
vibe
Everything is good, oh, and green
Say, I'm red again
And I don't suppose I'm coming down
I can see clearly, so high in sky
A man with psychedelic
You're my man, you're so nice and brown
Sweetest man in this town
I heard you say you was goin' away
And leave me here to stay
I feel like I could
Discuss these by p a good man down album u brown 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