Search results for 'gun song angelspit mix by ayria' Page #2

I was just up in the trenches
Surviving, heard gun shots everyday
That shit was real
Walking outside seeing dead bodies traumatizing
You don't know

I Refuse Limitation

Goodie Mob

Still Standing

1998

fall victim somehow
But that's that game
Won't try to explain
From books to bricks
Now I see crooks and tricks
Caught up in the mix
Of everyday in

for terror
We mix them shits together
And then we having orgies
We live this life forever
We never gonna stop
You with us lemme hear you scream

ya
We 'bout it, 'bout it like them No Limit soldiers
This ice cream man, kilos go for lower
The luggage is the new collab duffle by Rimowa

talk to God, but I ain't never read the Bible
Live by the gun, die by the gun, it's a cycle
If you see a opp, you better get on with your rival
Boy, you

Gotta mix these packs and potions
No P's 'til I put a SIM in a burner
I'm on the block like Werner, backroad lurker
Fully paid, bro, I'm an earner

snort some white
Blunts, guns, out in the sun
I'm too stoned to choke a bitch
Slap a bitch, smack a bitch
Mix heroin with Special K
Stop by Kindergarten

snort some white
Blunts, guns, out in the sun
I'm too stoned to choke a bitch
Slap a bitch, smack a bitch
Mix heroin with Special K
Stop by Kindergarten

on henny mix with cran n ice 
14 selling trees for a ten or we fighting 
By 15 already beating up the lines in foreign 
Piss me off hear my accent come thru

these shit songs
Iowa is plagued by the
Ones who wanna get grown
All these pussy ass rappers only do it
For the clout
All these pussy ass niggas
They

gossip
You all in the mix
I landed by five and I flipped it by six
Why we chasing the bag if we already rich
Like working all day but I don't get a check

The fellas all with shits
Don't get yourself involved in the mix
Friends with the city kids
Friends with the kids in the sticks
So I could be anywhere
Find me

Ghetto D

Master P

Ghetto D

1997

Ain't no fuckin order too big 

And makin crack like this is the song 

You won't be getting yo money if yo shit ain't cooked long 

Never cook yo

and Ima booster, if I ain't got no bands
In Valentino runners, I done been had the Louie Bag
And I can really pop it on this song, cause I done been had

No More Talk

T.I.

Trap Muzik

2003

it's the way that he die
Did he stand like a man till the day that he die
Or was he reaching for guns or trying to run
Or was he outside on the lawn

with sparks

Dead bodies drain all their blood
Guts and tears mix with the mud
This poor soul went out for fun
Time to kill them one by one

Night that's

Heavily drugged all in the A.M
Don't play the opps, just know that I hate them
Bros on the East side, I tried to save them
You want a song? Then you

a new song everyday so stop asking bout the shit
Got 18 yet to drop just waiting on a fucking mix
Every time I put this pen to pad it’s a hit I never miss

awake wid the riffle a gun play fully one law bima pon the run way if a war you whant we na complain tigi stack the million a so the funs stay you deff!!!

Ghetto D

Master P

Mix Tape, Vol. 1

1998

Ain't no fuckin order too big 

And makin crack like this is the song 

You won't be getting yo money if yo shit ain't cooked long 

Never cook yo

the effort too, but..
I just keep coming back
I'm hoping that you choose me
Before you gotta lose me
Mix signals, so loud, so confusing
So girl, I'm hoping

Look bitch, I'm not feeling your shit
Every song that I'm on
I be killing the shit
Your flow wack, I throw packs
Still on the bricks
I'm dealing with

Genuine Article

Kid Rock

Grits Sandwiches for Breakfast

1990

strap
'Cause I was a son of a gun

Livin' life on the run
Now I pleaded 18 and outdone by none
Bold, Young, Handsome, Bad like Bronson
Pumpin'

I pop a perc to ease the pain yeah
Said I been going through some thangs yeah
Gotta keep my gun I don’t know who to trust
Its YSL who fuckin with us?