Search results for 'ode to my car by bob evans' Page #17

over there
Ice bright road flares
We pop bottles you pop beers
Drug dealers and stars get different respect
If is not a house is a car on nah wrist

I got a feelin nigga wit it ? and my money be da root.
Look up at da stars, she like "Honey where da roof?"
Pull up in a Dawes ?, canaries ? dey go

the start
It's money all over my heart
It's money that cover my heart
I know you ain't real I can tell you apart
Eyes in the rear I can see like a car
Don't

fun, but that’s just me

Bad news Charlie brought us updates, none of them good
Bob and his kids kept warm by burnin’ wood
Food was runnin’ low, for big

a bitch got to kill me two times
Now bob your head to that fucking line
Switching up the flow and the beat same time
Never say my name and lame same time

chick hates she loves me 
Conflicted
Touched by hand of god bitch I’m gifted 
Sinning been all around me I resisted
I got hope like Bob & Whitney 
My

the heaven sent, good fire, partly fed
Crying for redemption, no lies, the end is set
My record player cracks, Bob Marley bled

Creating here what was created

Raised to be on point like some shark teeth
Paraphernalia under the car seat
I'm praying his mercy guard me
Bagging up that Paul McCartney

Moving

Lauren polo got
The city screaming "Marco"
Subwoofer booming
But how fast does your car go?
I'm addicted to the tar smoke
Don't try testing my team
We top

to do is call 
I'll be your lover and your handyman. 

I feed the dogs 
I cut the grass 
I wash the car 
I tap that ass.


Written by Marlon Franklyn

saw
“In God we trust” on money
It got me thinking
Where do evil lurk
So I embraced my Machiavellian nature
She’s naughty by nature
Rap music videos

Build yourself up brick by brick
All my haters make me sick
Kill them off like I’m John Wick
Complete my list give it a tick
I’m just grinding making

The Dope House Mind

South Park Mexican

The Last Chair Violinist

2008

bought my mom a castle
Bought pops a fuckin non filter box of camels
Comp soft n fragile get stomped and trampled
While they bitch in my car tryna bob for

could stay a way from strays
And bulletholes 
Could fill the car and leave me 
Dead 
Turn me spiritual
Best believe my spirit grows
Devil my rival
Before

lost for a long time I couldn't grasped the
Vision blinded by my hood had to see past here
Got to feel it got to see it like a 4K plasma
When you know

a railroad car, do da, do da
running a race with a shooting star, oh, do da day

Gonna run all night, gonna run all day
Bet my money on the bobtail nag,

Bob like it's Marley
The way I'm making these hits I feel like I'm Paul McCartney
But I'm new and improved
I leave it all in the booth
By booth I mean

it
I work until i rack up a billie
Billie
I can feel it in me that evil is building
Stacking my blocks like bob the builder
Fuck it i mudder this shit

They hate in ma comments like I give a fuck bout opinion 
Ima say what ima say ima do what I do u don't like it then Fuck out my business
I would hate me

Down 9 bullets five deep in mind
Saying time cant rewind
Mistakes i've taking in my life but i'm still alive
Got the 10 inch knife by my side
Came

Jada Alfred & Camille
Shut yo bitch ass up
Unadding me on my fucking snapchat
Because you're fucking alcoholic
What the fuck is your problem

by next day like just me this time
Two hands on the twelve at midnight
Drench my zombie, wet my samurai sword 
And board up shh, with my flick knife

Holland is ruled by midgets
The Pope owns CBS
The subway cars have been equipped with bars
And they're cloning Rudolph Hess

Samantha Fox has gone

a pillow
That's just a taste of what we'll do
A fucking demo
Emcees fall one by one
Taking shots at each other firing lyrical guns
This game's like