Search results for 'its more than rap by slim thug' Page #105

got mo' shots to pop ya
Big Poppa, breaking you off something proper
Signing off is the hardcore rap singer
AKA crack slinger, bring it any time nigga

got mo' shots to pop ya
Big Poppa, breaking you off something proper
Signing off is the hardcore rap singer
AKA crack slinger, bring it any time nigga

Runnin'

The Game

Against Everything

2008

car
Blowing horns like Miles Davis
At the pearly gate, God let me in
Give me a room by Aaliyah with ESPN
I know I got more sins than two lesbians
Been

a fraud nigga, far from legit
You say you the best but it ain't at this
You not top one hundred of nothing
In all yo raps you stay bluffing
I stay ten toes

And never acclimated might just blame it on the cycle
More yesterday's than to-morrows
Switched small po-tot-toes for hot potatoes 
The risk is in the wrist

call if wack rap
Indie rap if you want to
Play us emo-hop for the hipsters but FUCK YOU
We do it for the public
That's tired of that thug shit
We know

trying to make you think twice
About the direction you’re in, it’s not very nice
And if you lead by example, you’re number one
This is more fun than trying

to win by any cause
By any means, of course

Thug but I want more
Even in cuffs, above the law
Entrusted by them all
Get snubbed by my paw

Cause eruption

lines
I might not get five dimes
Laid pipe to like five dimes
And a few lower on the scale
But I try to find a wife
Cat so bad - got to kill it more than

that flow back
When niggas didn’t know
People compare Migos to Bone Thugs-n-Harmony
I put my blood sweat and tears in the game
And I still got more years

Show you a ting

Grab it, attach it, thugs no carry briefcase
Put di Glock against yuh ankle
.45 against your jeans' waist
Go over Gaza through di

(grrah-grrah)
Hoes wanna fuck 'cause the fame, ayy, ayy (gang)
I think I wear more Yeezys than North West and Kim K
Private jet, fuck a key I tell the clip

reason to my reasons I be talkin' my shit
And fuck them other boys, I swear I'm finna run a train by myself
I'll make you cum more than me, like five plus,

very slim
What can they say
What can they say
What can they do
What can they do
They always said give it your all

He makes a lot
More than he needs
It's

‘round adjacent
I know she can’t replace it
I won’t chase it, I’m more patient
I’m more man than amazing
Don’t ask me questions that’s invasive
You gon'

do it cap
Bitch I do more than rap
I took a trip and I bought it back
I bring it to you you ordered that
I heard you caught a sack
Get outta pocket

Plan B

Master P

Ghetto D

1997

don't mind being number 2
You keep more ice on my hands and wrists
Than an ink blue
And if it all falls through you still got me
Yout true bitch nigga

The Hit Song

DJ Format

Music for the Mature B-Boy

level, hit record
And soon enough we'll have another, hit record
In fact even though the song isn't done
By my count that was 18 hits alone
And it's only

eastside shit on the speakerphone
I send work out to Georgia, it's all peachy though
Coke's all white, you think it was bleached by Ichigo
Getting money,

perfectly
Swiftly at this speed you can miss me
With the shit B, I'm more trippy than Lil B
Crispy two bottles and I'm frisky
The future of rap and I'm just

Cigarettes

Fort Minor

The Rising Tied

2005

that shit sound more gangster than it really is
You can't appear weak man, we wanna hear street
We wanna hear you spit your thug over this here beat

so intense it'll leave your team seasick
But I'm just breathing under my breathe
Just trying rap more rather than less
Loosen up your bra
Say it with

my garage, I want my cars a la carte
And I ain't miss the mark this is all that I want
But I think we were destined to more than just wants
Only flashy

Niggas ain't seen no thug popstar (popstar)
'cause they gon' know who it is when we slide on 'em crazy (crazy)
Know I keep that stick on me, at the party