Lyrics:
that it hurt
To know she a flirt
To know that she a freak
To know she doing dirt
Chris brown said it these hoes aint loyal
You give her what she want
[Evan Schiller // Acoustic Drums & Loops]
[Chris Fox // Upright Acoustic Bass]
[Scott Moughton // Classical Acoustic Guitar]
[Eyvind Kang // Viola]
We
knowin what I'm knowin
Then live your life.. cause, we're..)
[Chorus]
(Cause, we're..)
[0-1]
(Nuttin but some gangsters..) Ridin by in them big
(Uu,uu,uu,ah,ah,Ruth Chris)
(Manna Dosanjh)
(Heh,Heh,Heh)
That's that rich life, she want to eat Ruth Chris (haa)
You can't even fight, you just got
alright)
Hand in hand we'll take a caravan
To the motherland
One by one we're gonna stand with the pride
One that can't be denied
(Stand up, stand up, stand
Hey man I'm with my dawg Chris you already know we finna snap on this nigga talk it crazy
Nigga talk it crazy we gon' have to get them blicks Nigga
to Ruth Chris, had her eatin' on some shrimp
Detention, Suspensions, my life like Duke Dennis
They got me like, ah, ha, ha
I can get any bitch just by
that, hot as hell though
Yo yo, what, uhh what
Bella {?} hop to this, what, uhh, uhh
Set it down dawg, what
(One by one) Rule one up in this bitch
lacking flour
So good for you, Chris Hopkins, for suggesting that instead
We focus on the kind of thing that's followed by a shower
But keep the guest list
being black
But unfortunately, the lighter you are, the less money you get
The following niggas
Drake
Chris Brown
Vic Mensa
Chance the Rapper
T.I
is not tuesday morning
'till nick has his talk with his son
Thursday night is not thursday night
'till chris has sex with his bass
Come
They need to exit don't let the grind past you by
I run laps round lames with my shoes untied
I jump the line walk in and watch the crowd divide
Still
[Young Chris]
Young, Gunz
Chris and Neef
The home of Philly
Tough love, first time around
We got now we don't care who got next
[Verse One]
[Young
called by the name
Chris the little bitch
I lost my cat
I lost my cat
I lost my cat
The time has come
For Chris's dick to be chopped off
And roasted
again, add it to wax
[Chorus]
[Young Chris]
It's not a game I'm from Philly
Go by the name, Young Chris, or Young Gunner
Know my partner Young
with my competitors
Imma be fucking up all of them
Money like Steph Curry, and I dish it out to my team like Chris Paul and them (Griffin!)
So lose
gone by
Fly, fly
Time don't wait for no one
Another Decade is here
And it's gonna fly
And it's gonna go just like the last one bye bye bye
*NSYNC is
Doomsday Clock
Lyrics by, Chris Indigo
Music by, Johnny Cab
Tick to the tock goes the doomsday clock.
Bound by the rod is the preacher's flock.
(Lyrics : Pascal Jorgensen / Chris Palengat)
Unceasing deforestation
Atmospheric disintegration
Excessive proliferation
Parastic civilization
(BOBBY SPARKS MUSIC (BMI) TODD PARSNOW)
MIXED BY: Chris Godbey at Tiki Hill: Dallas, TX
CHIEF ENGINEER: Bobby Sparks II
RECORDED BY: Bobby Sparks II in
shorty and I make it hot-ter
I got a lock ya, flavour to bring
Got the championships so I'ma savour the ring
Church boy, raised by my grandmomma
Blackbirds dance among the roses
On the garden walls.
They are like the passers-by
On the nameless street.
All these hours undone.
Sounds
do it for 'em he can't reach.
San Juan by next Sunday
Mummy, mummy, mummy.
Walking through the market, stop buy some rum and coke:
Plantains
Mary, Joseph, Allah
Kid of a disciple, these thoughts is suicidal
Jumpin' off a buildin'
Quit thinkin' like a psycho
They tryna find a nigga dead, Chris
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