Search results for 'the slippery v by little people' Page #114

I don't need much not a house full of gold 
It doesn't take much to cleanse the soul
I don't need a lot just a plate full of food
Cooked by someone I

Passing phases set by holy phrases
Left to misinterpret
Shit, I've traveled lowly places
Common sense crumbling
A dollar follows nothing when

Just made me a swish
I make a dish
I'm top five
This my time
my time to shine
I'm on my grind
You been outta line why u keep lying
You a little liar
Your

hiryu
5. Feed you my sword, leave your pussy sore
6. No Way I could restore, once the damage is pour 
7. Call me  lame so what if I'm practically bored

Of Terror How They Depend On My Shelter.
Yes I Get To That Cheddar, Might Givenchy My Sweater.
I 5 To 99 It, That Relentlessly Effort.
People Pretend To Be

were lying 
Baby say Ive never been perfect but I’m providing 
My little brother plead for 3 cause he was sliding 
Shorty aint leave till 5 cause we was

to school
 By the grace of God 
She had the power to support 
But still did nothing to help
They know we’re stars 
With a little support 
It’s gonna lighten

with it
Am i top 5 on my cousin's list
Nah we wont stop since a youngin' we been thugging it

I clip my wings just to fall just to feel something (X7)

I

to be alive
Always working to provide 
That nine to five makin' people wanna hide 
And get high on they own supply then wanna die
Just grind don't look

Hustle O (Meds)
By Ojeda Jarrett (Ojeda DOC AKA O da D.O.C)

Verse 1:
Excuse me i grew up poor
So a lot of these luxuries
I can't ignore 
Seh

take you into my world so you can see the shit 
Young nigga trying to get a million, I want my people rich
I’d just like to get a couple things up off my

a heathen
The reason? cuz I like analytical thinkin’
This Mongolian beef with little seasoning 
Get a piece then sit down and sink your teeth in
I’ll be

Bad?
Your high life’s funded by your Dad
Man shut up, do your own laundry
Three middle names? sit down you’re a tory

Does he click at his waiter?
Brag’s

to bed real late
Had some little fine ass filly sitting in the bed right next to me
You know the kinda girl that everybody ropes everybody rides on
Five

they can drive to the fields and work with a shit-eating grin
Cuz to them, making seven twenty five an hour's a win, ha!

('Cause I mean, it just feels

try to 'pump' people up and get all philosophical
There's not enough 'air' in my lungs to fill a soccer ball
I feel 'deflated' and defeated; I'm hated

People working on the five
That's a whole lot of crime
Don't judge, see, the world is the mind
Don't judge, see, the world is mine, Lil B

I'm winning

I will pop out and the bitches going to love it
Five yellow bitches in the cold and we thugging
You're not fucking with the Qing off the rip then you

One Two Three
Spitting Bullets On The Beat
I’m A Sick Little Puppy
Who Gets Lucky When He Speaks
Blessed With A Silver Tongue
Chest With An Iron Lung

Face to face body to body eye to eye
They faked on me but I wasn't taken by surprise
My main homies the only people i idolize
And I get deady from

za ain't got the white ash,
Gone send it back
Telling all these people you this and that
You with the Instacap
Only bands that these niggas got is in

Working weekends from 9 to 5
It takes up my time
But the money makes it alright

When you’re broke and you don’t got a dime
That’s when you gotta

loss and I know you loved your people 
No parents around you was raised by Howie  and Vickie 
Remember when you was pregnant with Raleigh 
The next day

Smiling faces line the bleachers
I'm ashamed of my concealer
Blinding lights, high-pitched squeals
High fives for me acting like I belong here
Fake smile