Search results for 'give me that jazz by louis armstrong' Page #6

shoot up the spot, then we gotta dip
G-19, fuck a nigga up
You mad at me? I don't give a fuck
You fucking with jazz and get your ass slumped
Made that

a bag on a Louis V jacket
In love with the fashion imma addict
I dont want that shit you can take it
But if ur pussy clean bitch come make me
Not so tough

and loyal 
She fine dressed in royal, no rush na dont soil 
Dancing for me naked by bedside and oils 
Dog up in these streets talking Georgetown like Hoyas

So many things that I cannot tell you
Unintentional memories that I dwell too
None of them treasuries I can sell true
Dark accessories haunting me

Go (Gas)

Juicy J

Genesis

2016

watching Chowder in my finest hour
A clearer mix of acid jazz and blue grass
Niggas still stuck in the past, opening new scabs
Me and Wiz matching bottles

shit, uhuh nope
I Can't love no nigga that ain't spending

Already had the Burkin and the Louis
Isaac and Moore me baby
New new me
Pop yo shit
Killers

a bit of dirt but I've never got caught
If you wanna live like me well shit that's gonna cost lots
I don't fuck with trucks unless that shit is made by

cut the ties
Livin' lie, Lance Armstrong at the finish line
Give it time, when we catch them cops on cam
I don't need six seconds, you remember Vine

of music gone by
We're gonna play some
Some unique blend of music that sticks in your mind
We're gonna give back
Syncopated material with no copyrights

sweat drop down from me face
Find a little gal ana wine up me waist
Tell die boss man die man a turn up die bass
Jazz and Dance Hall man a give you

I Want It All

Transplants

Haunted Cities

2005

I want it all (I want it all, yeah)
I want it all (I want it all, yeah)

[Tim Armstrong]
Some come hoping to bleed it
Some look up but don't see

that
Freedom, oh freedom, freedom over me
I hate to tell you, mister, but only dead men are free
Send me some lovin', tell me no lies
Throw the gun

The Best Things In Life Are Free

Janet Jackson

Fosse

1999

Are you ready?
Woo
Free, baby

Boy, when you look at me
Do you judge me by my cover?
Got to be kiddin' me
To think that I'm that kind of lover

Are you ready?
Woo
Free, baby

Boy, when you look at me
Do you judge me by my cover?
Got to be kiddin' me
To think that I'm that kind of lover

Give it all to you like every dollar that I'm earnin'
Sophisticated me, I need that Clicquot by the curtains
Ice bucket tray with a sunny tan burnin'
She

(originally by Louis Armstrong)

I touch your lips and all at once the sparks go flying
Those devil lips that know so well the art of lying

Real talkin nigga
Man I'm all about my cash flow
Nigga I'm the shit my momma
Had me out her asshole nigga I be actin'
Nigga know that we mackin'

the bag) 
Huh
Copped a new Louis (Hmmm) 
And a Birkini 
And I did it all by myself  (All by myself) 
I got bitches mad 
'Cause I'm on a level that they all

Julie,
Plenty things wey you dey do me,
E be like say man don dey lose it
Body strong and the mind is willing
See that body
E don jazz me
I can't

Dibona my life splashing
I got played dog by my own wife
In my mansion I'm a slave dog
This disease got me slashing my arms
Even worse I don't even know

Let me get right to it
Brought that gas
I don't leak no fluid
Talk that jazz And I speak so fluent
Melt that beat Bitch I might fondue it
This is

did the hundred meter dash like she Flo-Jo
I blew a hundred grams of hash I'm in Slow Mo
Bumpin Coltrane and Louis Armstrong I'm old school
Yeah, I'm

Stretch Armstrong Freestyles

Royce da 5'9"

Build & Destroy: The Lost Sessions, Pt. 1 [Germany]

2003

suckers bore me
And yeah, I probably hate Tommy Boy as much as Nore do
Who the best?  Eminem, Jigga or Nas?
'Cause when it comes lottery time, that

phone (rackers)
I just took that bitch to the store (get it baby)
I cover my bitch in Louis (dripping)
I went put Gucci on the floor (whoa)
Rock Givenchy,