Lyrics:
They said we wouldn't make it
Yet we made it
Like jay said
Styles said
Sheek said
We gon make it
Yup we gots this
I'm Kickin down the door
Like big
Every song is a homicide
My breath of fresh air is formaldehyde
Just let the album ride
I'm back in the zone, it's 2009
You on the browser lines
Rollin' down the diamond lane
Travel by train, bus, boat, car or airplane
To different venues with our names on the fliers
Likwit niggas known
going down the highway
I guess it was around 3:30 in the morning
He could hardly see the road with tears in his eyes
He could barely see the sign that
sleeves.
Four-door swoosh made by Nike.
Drop-top jumpan suit, by Mike E.
Got to like my player, I'm in it for the dough.
I'm in it for show, matter fact
it down in 3
And you ballin' ass niggaz whose dressed to kill
For the hoes showin' the toes with extra heels
I gotta get in, I drove here
With
high saw rolling screen
Fuck the temptation, she goes down on the pole
How you being tough ,you get moved by a blown
Look before you open the right
Woke up this mornin,
Clock said I was late for school,
Teacher told me "that's not cool"
Gotta put my shirt and pants on,
Flew down the front
Unlimited pistols but that shotgun cheap and cheerful
My hitters tryna do it like Beanie Sigel
Get down or lay it down (bah, bah)
Get down or lay it down
te vaak
Ik wil een waggie broer ik zweer ik neem de bus te vaak
Goeie beu die we hier smoken, jij rookt parkwiet
V8, rook komt door de uitlaat als je
State
In a yellow six-deuce with the purple plates
I dip and dodge, I hit three and roll
Fish and chips, bounce pass down to Pau Gasol
We don't give
make suits sue me, ah
Nine to five like Uzi stepping down from racks
I'm with my fucking guys and gals, pussy
I don't take it like a ride or die 'cause
city non finisce mai
Centottanta in circovalla, fra', Milano by night (one, two, three, hit me)
Mille bande nella city, street life
Sono tutti per
grill
Is the same delificius at the radios' DJ
The fake at the album collection, lookin' lookin'
Rusia, puro delinquente session
>From sun up to sun
to think that I was God
Really just had hella help
If there's one way I can go
I ain't goin by myself
Yeah
Down
Smoke THC-O, feelin like CP3- "oh"
Double
as hell, and the judge was a ho
Finna slap me with assault cause I threw my ex-wife to the floor
An inmate going to trial, standing next to the door
Behind
down
From this point on
You the one I trust now
I’m at the pan handle, up the road doing time
Smoking squares thinking how I got this 3 to 5
I’m reading
the bills so we enjoy life
Cause we only here once we don't get it twice
Why the world wanna bring me down and steal my smile
Try to lighten up my mood by
Im the type guy to leave you high and dry
Or drown.
If you try to mess me and my music your going
Down.
You wont see me recite other artists quite
You get these albums from my mind, It filters thoughts from the heart
The way shit's just falling all apart I'm just not sure where to start
But if I
3-1-2
Picture me on, picture me grown
Picture me social, but not on my phone
Picture these songs when I get in my zone
Picture me not doing this
bang Big B in my face, my nigga
By mornin', I'ma check 'em out this bitch
Bean bag, know that gon' make this bitch
Lock down 'til the whole line get
don't check, I don't care (Ho!)
Cause I'm down with the Clown everywhere (Hey!)
Cause Much Clown Love is in here.. (Biitch!!)
(Shaggy 2 Dope) - Verse 3
down the Nile
Plague darkness three days long, hail to fire
So let it be written
So let it be done
I'm sent here by the chosen one
So let it be
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