Lyrics:
of it
Liquor bottles hit ya harder than some syrup when ya slum
Have ya shakin', fakin', body achin' by the time I'm done
Legally this isn't right but ask
knew this
While the rest of my days I be livin' in Ruthless
Fuck what you're thinkin', law, my Judge is up Heaven
Look at my stomach and see the "7
glowing glowing it's heaven
tokihanate ya ya futari no FESTA yume wo miyou
glowing glowing it's heaven
ai no itotaguru yokubou wa forever every day every
that East and West crap
From Watts to LeFrak, it ain't where you're from, it's where's your gat
It's hard to analyze which guys are spies
Be
bothered by vigilantes that
Harbor on street corners
Try your hardest to harvest bundles
Of weed on ya
The starving’ll speed on ya, stampede on ya
Impede
strapped down with my kaylor
I walked up and dumped on the haters, you suckas can't fade us
They mad cause we famous, money didn't change us
Ghost Town, 7th
to me
I been right here with my day ones
Some of 'em ridin' since 7th grade
They just sayin' that I'm brash as fuck
I just add it up, Yeah I calculate
and signals to the other police that the Champion
is sure enough dead. If you are just joining us Sunday
May 7?th at 2:42 P.M. perhaps the greatest golfer
you TFO's doctor or Mobb Deep
Whoever, I freaked it yes, so meet ya death
I never wear Esco, I got a New Line comin' like cinemas
Remember the,
up, boogie on ya
Like Don Cornelius, on SOULLLLLLLLLLL TRAIN!
And heads I clip off, in rap leave a bloodstain
A bigger pain, you would need
eraser
Put it up in the sky, nice and high, wave it side to side
Screaming rub e'm out, rub e'm out
Goodbye hater
Cya wouldn't wanna be ya
Fuck your
ain't giving up a motherfucking thing
It's hard to come by, and I ain't no bitch nigga
Shit been in some robberies and walk-bys
And you don't want
self maid
I go up graduallay
I grind I don't play
Which colors an array
Clear up the grey
Till the last and first second on the 7th
& the first day
If
eyes blurry, don't worry
I'll get them suckers back before your buried (shit)
Retaliate and pull a one-eight-seven
Do real niggas get to go to heaven
share it just make you cop it then call you a sheriff
Stop it, I'm hearin' the comments
The critics are calling me conscious
But truthfully, every shooter
live then you die where your body goes
If it's Hell or it's Heaven
6 or the 7 well I'll keep the nina for our be foes in a gamble
That's what life is
One two three four five six seven
Rap like hell make it should like heaven
Seven six five four three two one zero
Black supermen is back as your
10 toes touchin' the ground
Bitch nigga I am not your homeboy
We are not from the same home boy
My Nina Baker bring your joy
I'll destroy who ya
the merrier
I represent the Ya area
I walk from Foothill and Paperscourt to Sixty-Seven MacArthur
To Freddie be house to make tapes with my potnah
four
Fives and sixes honeys by the mixes
(Uh) , if it ain't broke don't fix it
Smoke out with Leo, Biggie Tarantino
Size like a sumo, Frank White, numero
Did He put his arms around you, make you feel like you're safe?
Did He grab you by the hand and say that things are okay?
I gotta know mama, did He
Arthur and his trusty servant Patsy "ride"
Into a field where peasants are
Working they come up behind a cart which
Is being dragged by
Okay, I have my thinking toque on
Yeah, right
What are the twelve days of Christmas?
'Cause, figure it out, right Christmas is when? (Um)
Uh,
Free the real that's locked behind the gates
'Member when I used to flip a 8th
Make the 7th money by the 8th
All this ice and I don't even skate
Big
Discuss these are ya fakin it by 7th heaven 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