Lyrics:
the outlaw life
Yo I need to hit the trail, my supplies are getting thin
Take a piss on the fire, fill my saddlebag bins
I love this life of sin, you'll see
me the way, somebody show me the way
It's routine, by the beach I rise
First up, I hit the weed then I bleach my eyes
Then it's to the drum
I'm more breaded
My Lord better
Success in the air, my poors said it
They say I'm the greatest, nigga, them whores said it
Hopped in a Rolls, 2020,
droppin' dead all around me yo
I stop goin' to them wakes a few bodies ago
My man just came home and just like that
They hit again with murder he never
Indeed truly we are the mighty mighty BDP posse
This is our fourth album and we're still not takin' no shorts
Yeah, ha hah!
On the wheels
before pleasure
P-Diddy and the Fam, who you know do it better?
Yeah right, no matter what, we air tight
So when you hear somethin, make sure you hear
Welcome to my album, I hope you stay long
I was gonna name this one Growing Pains, but
Then I found a toilet dumped by the railroad
So we took
then I supply em
I got the source of an orchestra
But if you don't pay the cost to the boss then I'm forcing ya
You said you're ready like Freddie
amount of losses
Cause my supply's bigger
Don't associate me with nothin' but that dopest child star shit
That Lindsey Lo', that Todd Bridges
Hit your
Co-signed by Alchemist, stamped by Babu
Executive Produced, yours truely, got loot
It's a new day, phones still tapped
Watchin' the crew
They put out one
Wipe your nose for ya
Climb a mountain in the snow for ya
You see these dummies always cut you lose, but so much that a G can do
Hit the weed, have
man brawl three men fall
Bullets flew I had to drug my man behind a wall
Left a wet trail, delivered these slugs like air mail
Directly at the cat
breath all after that was like the best air every time
After that I knew that shit would have me by the grip for life yeah, but these other souls they be
he wants
I'm coming and bringing
The real supplies
Watch me kill a beat
You pussy niggas fuckin with a beast
Hit me wit the heat
Murk a nigga
Flames of infernos blaze so hot
A soul so lit that shape them lips
The glow the air that mix so sick
The ball to bat that grand slam hit
Every time that
before pleasure
P-Diddy and the Fam, who you know do it better?
Yeah right, no matter what, we air tight
So when you hear somethin, make sure you hear
then hit, then flight
We know the rules nigga, live by none
Get it by none, bitch I'll kill for my son
Yeah Gangsters don't live that long
That's
This is for The Lonely
And to: those without a trust
This is for those soley
Whose heart's been hit by a bus...
Now I'm competing with myself
do what it takes
I'll keep you safe
Why don't you stay by me
And when the time comes
We'll escape
When the big one finally hit's LA
When Yellowstone
blessings
And on another note, she just hit another note
Chills down my spine, got me crying, make me over Lord
You don't know about us though, old school
Hmm
New Patek on my wrist
White diamonds, them shits hit pink
I'm ready
New Patek on my wrist (yeah)
White diamonds and them shits hit pink
the banister
Shoot him on camera then kill his manager
Then hang a banner up
That reads you can't proceed
Without bein' conceived
By one album of the 90's
a tricker
Get your bitch out the car 'fore we blick her
We put an AirTag on his car, he in Miami by Brickell
Say "Hello" to the four nickel
I got
Do you remember walking to the water? Surrounded by empty summer homes
Some awful nu-metal album, blasting out of broken headphones
We'd wind up back
Discuss these by hits live album air supply 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