Search results for 'shit hits the fan by 3 feet smaller' Page #17

again
Playing for keeps I could teach how to scam
His baby momma fye and it's quick like sand
Hit her three times I ain't cuffing no fan
I ain't fearing

y'all niggas green
Started all this clout chasing, I hit you in your spleen
I see I just gotta move on, last too long
Smaller circle, my niggas stay

Just like the register, I'm keeping count, you can bet i'm a dodge that drought
Gained some fans by word of mouth, best bet i'm the hottest out
Watch me

be talking smack
Been chill too long, time to react
(Y'all got fans?) Yes, we do
And sold-out shows so screw you too
Floss got fame now, he's sexy

goin' ham on him
Tory had to move from LA 'cause
They put hands on him
I'mma turn fans on him, all his shit taken
My algorithms have risen, I got shit

uranium tips
When it hit's many
Mushroom clouds'll elevate
From the three foot by three
Foot hole Berettas make

A few times I been around that track
So

gone
Love when you up but when you down you all alone
I Ain't trippen by my lonely yea yea it's all I know
I just hit the road & pray I make it bacc home

lames
Beige coupe when the rain stains
I been the same age, time at a standstill
Hand me a Xan pill, smaller than anthills
Hit him like kill cam, love

shake the city, so I shook that shit like a crying toddler
Hit the gelato papaya, took a sip of the Jose
Everything turned red for eight minutes, woke

spinning like rim tire I'm the supplier
Nigga I hit the brick by ya I fix fire
Fan on the brick dryer 6 driver attitude like a six niner
You think you live

help you
When shit hits the fan

everybody walk around wit' a pole now, what happened to fist fights?
Would never hit a bitch, but wouldn't mind if I hit dykes, shit!
I need an audience 'cuz

it left a mark it ain't no hickey tho
Shawty call me daddy i'm big poppa like i'm Biggie hoe
Hit the road a couple times I know this shit get risky tho

to learn
Steel sharpens steel
This shit ain't adding up
Four hits without a strikeout
Talking all that shit up in the dugout
I'm a home run hitter batting

bread
I don't play it it by the rules soon or later we all dead
Ouu I been thru a lot of shit
Sour bitches tryna climb up on me watch me take a sip
I got

bluffin'
If the glove don't fit you must acquit

But mine fits and my fits hit
And my hits lit and I won't slip
Cuz I am it I am him
I'm three hole punch Jim

killing shit
We made it, oh yeah
We made, uh
Tough times you were by my side
All I need is you and I
We made it, oh yeah
We made it, uh
Hit me up you know

Yuh
Gucci fur coat, Keltec extended clip
Thermal ACOG with select fire
Snake print Gucci belt, baguettes by cartier, Dior saddle bag
I'll shoot

Wu Banga

GZA

Supreme Clientele

2000

like we heard about you
Bless the mic with reality, hit you with the virtue
Calm down not tryin' to hurt you, burst through
That shit, fatter than all

like we heard about you
Bless the mic with reality, hit you with the virtue
Calm down not tryin' to hurt you, burst through
That shit, fatter than all

around
Who I done sinned around
Who I done spinned around
And hit with the dag
I'm sayin yeah okay like I'm bubba
Get downed by foul play
Like a mother

Bo! Bo! Bo!

Boogie Down Productions

Ghetto Music: The Blueprint of Hip Hop

1989

started to run you
Know I couldn't feel my feet, I was weak, I said to myself holy shit!
My shirt had filled with blood I didn't know I got hit but

four-point, four-point-eight)
What did it start off at?
Three hundred thousand dollars
So it's at $4.8 million?
Yeah
Cash

Ayo, Hit-Boy
I think it's

South Central Madness

South Central Cartel

South Central Madness

1992

[ Havoc ]
Yo, this Havoc the Mouthpiece from the S.C.C.
I only got three words to say:
South - Central - Madness

[ Prode'je ]
Hoo-ridin in