Lyrics:
to Boston, then Boston back to Rome
It's too late for me
Gotta leave this shit alone
Everything's in the air but I'm really feeling thrown
Now my house, now my
Vegas run fool 'cause its Friday
Oh yeah, throw ya neighborhood in tha air
If ya don't care
Oh yeah, throw ya neighborhood in tha air
If ya don't
of blue Air's
That first night in prison is the worst
Made it worse was coming home and seeing my niggas on a shirt
Had to get it out the mud, I got
By my will we'll take what we need
Even daughters bound and gagged
Ears parted with heads
Splinters of wood in throats of old men
Burn houses
Hood to hood
Lincoln Houses, Castle Hill, Bronx shit
Soundview
On the West side, in the Jungles, to the 60s
Hood to hood
Out in O-town, to Vallejo,
8-8-8-8-808 Mafia
Niggas bitches, yeah I know
Pop out, scared to tote they poles
Remember 2012, we was selling blow
See 4-7, had to tuck and roll
the dick, in your mouth
Take it out and take a lick
Every Ho is a bitch
And every bitch is a ho to get turned out
We putting these hoes on da house
Well I
to have every single thing she was missing
She need that house in the mountains with them gold plated fences
I was taught by Italians
Boy I'm really
like us you our target market
Off La Brea by the Tar Pits I was flowin' in the park
Standin' out in any crowd like I was glowin' in the dark
Like Noah
and sing you a country song
We'll all be flyin' higher than a jet air liner
And if you want a little bang in your ying yang come along
Well we broke
the Master Gee
Well, my name is known all over the world
By all the foxy ladies and the pretty girls
I'm goin' down in history
As the baddest rapper there
I wanna lay by a lake in Norway, I
I wanna walk through Swedish fields of green
I wanna see the forests of Finland, I
I wanna sail on a boat
machine?
switch it to spin, stand back and laugh
then hang 'em by their nuts from a telegraph-
-pole, german, swedish, french and dutch too
the voices have
mothballs in the beef stew.
Punishment time, in the air lurks gloom,
Sitting by myself, confined to my room.
When all else fails, nothin' else left to do,
American sedan, the shooters got Berettas in their hand
This is Mafia, veterans'll plan
Word to the tape on the brick, this is raw
I'm in the 4x4, 8 plus
fresh air
Feel the melody that's in the air
I'm bound, take a look around
What's going down?
However do you want me? However do you need me?
Maybe we passed in a dimly lit hall
It could be years ago and I cannot recall
But there's something in the air
Trying to cut my breath as we stand
always stand out
I don't take no handouts
But I take you're money bruh
Run up in your gram's house
I hustle till I die with
The rapping with the trapping
pastor
Shit, God Bless
Champagne showers for my niggas in them towers
Heard he wanted war now his body growing flowers
Grind gotta salary you working by
the whore when it's time to skate
Leathal leakin got my mother crib stinking
No time for air freshener they beeping in the Lincoln
I jumped in the back with
I can ever speak truly
To say a word so desperately
Hoping that out of thin air
The idea will appear
But language is just a game for
Well-meaning
a tornado, looking for a man to break
Yea I'm gonna lift this house, spin it all around
Toss it in the air and put in the ground
Make sure you're never
fucking with me, cause Gangsta Blac gonna set it off
Got time damn near every day, every spot I'm in da house
Bitch we play no games hoe, I just one up out
twitch indicating that perhaps
She'd had a rage stroke
Meanwhile, onstage
Nicki was hoisted up by the male
Dancers, arms in the air in full expression
Discuss these in the air by swedish house mafia 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