Lyrics:
the street
In Bel-Air only the nights get cold
I wrapped a yellow jacket 'round Bey
It's not lost on me, music has my kids sound asleep
Oh, let's make
of air
And the element of water
These are the four elements
Originally, this project was supposed to be one big ass project together
But, because I was
that, need us, Almighty Black Dollar
Fuck them bottles, ain't Puff's, it ain't Jay's
Cîroc, D'Usse, Bel Air, let's get paid
Rolls Royce, Bentley ain't
D.C. air-force, G-5s are better, you already know nigga
All gold sky-dwellers, fly nigga shit
Bel Air sippin', Ciroc pissin', foreign car dippin'
Young
Hook
Sippin Bel Air in my Bel Airs in Bel Air we don't tell shit
When you all lit, no fraud shit that's God Gift H Grail tip
On the interstate, I
Smash a rapper head like a volleyball and my name was Vel
Smack him if he disrespect like fresh Prince of Bel-Air
I will smith you into a pair of shoes if
you went to school with, "The Fresh Prince of Bel Air?"
Wouldn't waste a bullet on you, I can dead you with a mean stare
You too easy to scare, and I
ass, tape on the handle, trey eight revolver. What!
Projects too hot, niggas better hope we never hit rock
'Cause then we gonna run up in your spot
Bel Air full und die Thots auf Tisch (Tisch, Negro, Flex)
Leben ist blessed, full Stacks auf Tisch (rich, Negro, Flex)
Bel Air full und die Thots auf
a sonnet
Keep it on hold
Know I'm getting old
But imma stay fresh
Like this be bel air
Snap on the beat
I rap to the snares
I am an Apple
And you is
Know we keep it twizzy on the scale in
Smell the weed nigga
Like Sebastian I could tell fear
Fresh once it's Bel-Air
Look what I smell here
Pussy
knowledge.
But pussy is pussy, from Bel-Air to the projects;
Bitch better suck my dick.
Ain't nothin' new; the game is old.
You think the bitch is decent,
knowledge.
But pussy is pussy, from Bel-Air to the projects;
Bitch better suck my dick.
Ain't nothin' new; the game is old.
You think the bitch is decent,
betta prove it...
Say getting money then do that shit.
Projects made me
Grady baby lit....
I'm Special
Life styles
Wild west flow.x2
(00:40 begin
of cream
Run up on them all with the same problem solver
Beat up ass, tape on the handle, trey eight revolver
What!
[Chorus: x2]
Project's too hot,
Yo! It's the burial ground sound, Dunn!
It's real out here
Staten Island puttin chills in y'all niggaz
Forever in it.. yo
My devastatin hot
I've never been, I never wanted to go
Another line and it's another show
Philadelphia, Atlanta, Bel-Air
Then off to London but I don't really
up and spray in broad day, with some choppers
Yea we shooting at your hair, Fresh Prince of Bel Air
Always got to walk in pairs
See bodies falling down
Ain't no prince no bel air
I really need some fresh air
Just want you to know that I care
Why this life ain't being fair?
Walked out feeling kinda scared
you better use some logic
It might sound foul but it's "The Code" of the projects
Yo, "Hav" it's deep, it's going down as we speak
And won't stop 'til
that bel air
Crossing lines to protect your name, Man I've been there
Doing things now I never use too, I don't fear
If it don't contribute, IDC, man
it tomorrow
I got Patron and Bel-Air almost everywhere I go
It's kinda hard to be different when they tryna steal My flow
My conscience told me
Now Torrance is back and they all want to chatter
When I put down the mic my career gonna be a art exhibit
Changing sounds every project, every time I'm
Yo! It's the burial ground sound, Dunn!
It's real out here
Staten Island puttin chills in y'all niggaz
Forever in it.. yo
My devastatin hot
Discuss these Bel Air Sound Project 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