Search results for 'vegas by 4 stud' Page #13

or rock n' roll

Now it's a never ending
Cycle of hangovers
Regretting the four drinks I took
And not remembering what I've done

Sex & drugs or rock n'

The bitch drop it off by choice not force
Aint killed shit he made a rap n jump off the porch
Pussy nigga aint even active talkin like a boi
An we aint talkin

more money if you listen to our last audios we talked about putting more money in the casino pocket by training people online and reaching out

with a fist pump
The boy so ever green
Eucalyptus, by the tree stump
You can lick this
I run a 4.5 outta shape
Pushing the same colors
Stamp date

Hella thrice, 4times in Las Vegas
She a gold digger
And she like it bigger
And a bit thicker
Green and tasting bitter
I'm talking cash, what is you

Gunz 4 Hire

Paul Maged

The Glass River

2018

out of control
Deflect the blame, for political gain

Gunz 4 hire, gunz 4 hire
Gunz 4 hire, gunz 4 hire
The game has changed but we remain the same

/distrokid.com/lyrics/track/?id=A7FFB314-B521-4ED6-9F7E41A2D36D6CE7,1
RuudBoi Bugzy Yeah Aite
Mista Manuva
Big batty gyal mi seh me a go do her
Tek

dragon on a stretch pearl rug
No time to snooze, no time to lose
Bad yellow bitch by my feet changing my shoes
And my shoelaces, Burberry braces
Cut off

from high end life in Vegas enhanced my dreams
Who ever would’ve known four figure weekends would be a thing
I remember back in 2015 just a youngin’

lyrics today wouldn’t even know thug life
But that night, 11:10pm, Las Vegas Nevada
September 13th, 1996, unfair, you didn’t have armour
If that red light

the same mistake rarely twice (I did)
My confessions drop a four in a deuce now it's a cherry Sprite (Wockesha)

And they're asking where your heart

No reconciliation
Fuck all of my opps personal
Just chopped the crop get pulled by cops I'll tell 'em it personal
And I was tryna off white before I

Million Rappers

Phunk Junkeez

Fear of a Wack Planet

pumpin' in the Cerwin-Vega's
Showin' the skills makin' bills on the Sega
Live 97 yea the be	'ball
We are the ones with the phunk that will put y'all
In

You should stop by yeah you and your friend
Drunk off the spades playing with the aces
Fucking in the car like we was teenagers
You over 21 I don't care

No one makes it to the top by themselves
I don't care what no one say you can't create wealth
You amass it it's about the people around you
So baby

Ayo Bin$on got the drip
Hey
From the Mo to the 4, from the Mo to the 4
Where you from, where you from, throw it up, let 'em know
Bingo from the North

Parkland, Santa Fe, Vegas, Orlando, Charleston, Sutherland Springs
Congress and the Senate got the NRA on payroll
4-time killers, now they singing

WORDS BY JOSH MILAN 
MUSIC BY LOUIE VEGA
SPOKEN INTRO LYRICS BY ANANE

SPOKEN INTRO 
O som da alma da Cuba
Entra o som dentro de mim 
Ouve o coração

explicitly restricted to my smoking fiends.

We need some papers, just stopped by a bodega,
for a swisher and a rillo and a Garcia y Vega.

We rolled one for

and then forget about you
Want to sit by and niggas buying
Them drinks and little weed supplying
Y'all lose y'all mind so you can't remind em
Them chino

Paranoid pistol pointing boy don't disturb me
Oh my, never told no lie 
Never fear no man 9 or no 4 5 
This life a cold ride
Smoke trees so the pain from my

Been to hell touched the devils hand
Cold as ice on the block with the angels
We used to roll dice
See my homies disappear one by one
In the middle

In my hood where we get dough hustle and flow
Bustle and blow the four pound move em all around
Getting that bread out of town in America's Favorite

pushed ’em to the left
She keeps an open mind on what could be coming next
She lives life to the fullest and parties with no regrets

Work trip to Vegas