Search results for 'rest is up to you gold edition by relient k' Page #10

of New Orleans, Louisiana (all you TRU soldiers)
Give it up for Richmond, California (get 'em up in the air)
(Puttin' 'em on the map) put 'em up

a fact 
Take ya shoes off, cough up the jewels like gimme dat
For that bread you get toast, imaginary players
Know ya shit is gold plated you prolly won’t

dat lil bitch one time and im ret ta go
You aint no gangsta I thought I should let you know
You aint no plug I finessed em wit Oregano
Trap trap run up

know I'm tripping
Bay K's that's a new edition
Get smoked like Cali Kush
Gun shine like a cali bush
Gun down you could catch a hook
Guns up imma catch

front my very eyes
Uh, when is it enough
1, 2 degrees. And a house by the sea
I’m proud of you Raf
Words I’ll never hear, till I got 80k every year

Over-zealous
There is nothin' you can tell us
That we don't already know
I mean I heard the same story
Like an hour ago

Bust up on the scene, 
I'm like a heavy

screaming in hell
No such thing as a bail
Nor a saved by the bell
When the heat is for real
Better throw in the towel
Before you empty your bowels
And be

had a few staccs
Spent it then got some more bacc
Spent it then got a lil bag
Broke it down then put-up half
Then with the rest hit the Ave
You know how

sucked out your mum’s punani
You look like you’ve got cancer
So clashing me is not the answer
So you're better of going back
To the strip club
Carry

soon
Rest in peace to the victims
And Christian Atsu
Natural disaster
Tell me what you gonna do
Wake up in the morning
Go down on my knees and pray

nothing but a smoker
That's the way it goes, that's the name of the game
Young brother getting over by slanging 'caine
Gold around his neck and 14K heavy

Me and the Biz

Marley Marl

Droppin' Science: The Best of Cold Chillin'

1998

[Master Ace] 
I'm a 100% proof and rag on the roof and 
Pulling crazy cuties without a gold tooth 
Wilding, styling, this land is my land 
(You're a)

The Mechanic

J.Armz

How to Be an MC, Vol. 50

[CHORUS:]
Man I run this rap shit 
Get your hands up high, hands up high, hands up high
Rest in piece to Biggie Smalls
Get your hands up high, hands

shit

Thirty in the clip catch the whole thing
Feds know a nigga by his whole name
Shoot him in his head for his gold chain
You was running ball, we was

life is under the son
A new chapter of your life is just begun
So flip the page, rise from your grave, call on the name
So you can be saved, Jesus,

it is?
Reload an AK-47
Gun game in my crib
She got me
Runnin in the dark 
Just to dig up in her rib
Just to dig up in her!

You know I got it, Wha it

bitches
Please back up cause ain't no holding these niggas
My click ain't scared to leave a hole in you bitches
Recognized by the chain with the gold

want car clothes a trophy yo brodie
The golds in me
The goal simply
Keep it 100 while many men give you 50
Reel it in
You see they're all up in their

turns to curd, it makes cheese
Now would you listen if I told you one and one is three
But if you want smoke then nigga we want that
Pull up AMG my nigga,

Sarah

Tyler, the Creator

Bastard

2009

L-I-K-E, the only difference is she won't fuck with me
But she will fuck with that vegetable with the hairs full of X's and O's
I want to tie her body up

this the year I get it, gotta get it
On a dash, I need all the cash, bank account got digits
Shit is vicious, see the vision? see these bitches? know you

More like art, its Sistine
Michelangelo, Hold up say what
T1mm1nz ain't nice
Nigga fuck is you mean
Look at the material
Sharpen the steel Ima swing

back talk, back wall, end up in asphalt
Niggas love them choppas like we
Flyin in black cars but you with the roost
Thinkin a nigga was black though
Now

to take you up
But then the temple's gate is shut down 
Used to be the only one in my own class
Sitted by myself men I'm thinking of burning grown grass
I