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Search results for 'by ing back album collin raye'

Yee yee! We've found 18 lyrics, 79 artists, and 100 albums matching by ing back album collin raye.



thoughts
I didn't wanna suicide as the result
So the night at my Fort Collins show before I hit the stage
I left through the back for a walk and no one
the first album even the gals were like "tight lyrics, dreamy eyes"
But my f***ing mouth was nightmare-ish

And from the start of it you felt like you were
Spin your wig back like we DJ'ing, he ain't playing
My songs set a trap, catch 'em laying
Now we stuck but he's overwhelmed by what he came across
Not
a gritty fiend for, 
Money, power, respect, get it by any means uh,
New Yorker, slick talker, walk like a brick flipper,
Decimal doctor, multiply to get
disco inferno

I told y'all that I was coming back
I told y'all I ain't going out like that
I told y'all I was the greatest to ever rap
And I built
survive
Brothers need to unify to keep the game alive
Rappers be coming out with one album then they gone
So with cats like Raekwon, support em so they
speakin' on, oh word?
You ain't heard my album? Who you sleepin' on?
You should print the lyrics out and have a f***ing read-along
Ain't a f***ing
and I`ll walk on your back like Mr. Benny
When my shit drop, all this wack shit`ll stop
Till Janet stops, rockin` Planet Rock
Keepin` it real hot
I
But what it bring, nuttin but pain 
and one in your fuckin brain 
Ain't nuttin changed since the album I'm still whylin 
I'm still violent I've been
nuttin' but pain
And one in your fuckin' brain

Ain't nuttin' changed since the album I'm still whylin'
I'm still violent I've been waitin' for this moment
Whoah!
A get your hands in the air, and get to clappin 'em
And like, back and forth because ah
This is.. what you thought it wasn't
It beez..
Whoah!
A get your hands in the air, and get to clappin 'em
And like, back and forth because ah
This is... what you thought it wasn't
It beez...
and ditch it 
Kitchen whipping and flip it raw
Get it all off the kitchen floor
My bad is my bad, the baddest ask me

What I'm b****ing for
What I'm
in a cab
I'll stab you with the sharpest knife I can grab
Come back the next week and re-open your scab
A killer instinct runs in the blood
Emptying
watch face crystal clear
The other chick will give me heat while I shampoo her hair
Head tilted back baby no more tears
You mumblin' and shit duke my
the old me no you f***ing wasn't,
You're such a f***ing loser,
He didn't even go to class, Bueller,
Trade the Grammy plaques just to have my granny back
She toss a brick through
The window of your Jeep
They back together
By the end of the week
That's so sweet

Slim and Kim argue too much
Invite
shoulder... ? Aw, you're fulla shit, man... ah, listen, by the way, before I go on; did you get those white albums I sent ya with the pencil on the front... ?

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