Lyrics:
out my heart, have a drink
They say the drunk never lie, they ain't never lyin yea
My country tis of thee,
Sweet land of kill 'em all and let em die
Intro
Rap by R.Kelly
(feat. R. Kelly, Fabolous)
[R. Kelly]
Y'all know what this is
so bob your heads, yeah
ladies it's your boyfriend
door open
so a nigga can come in there real slow.
Yeah.
You got a job, I got a life, you got a man, I got a wife
Baby girl, baby boy, that's
hat
Gotta slimey potna he gone slime ya out and do it bad
Thinking it's no problem whole time I wanna do ya bad
Take a nigga hat tell em I said fuck em
space on top of astroids
Comin' to rip up the shore
We killin' the fool
So act a fool boy
Chorus x4
Stomp motherfucker, stomp motherfucker, stomp
(lay
Where my dogs at? (right here)
You see them niggas? (Right where?)
Dead 'em, boys (right there)
That's how we do (Alright, then)
Yeah, this is for my
Madonna, uh
You gotta get 'em all hot
Tick tock tick tock tick tock
Sometimes I think what I need is a you intervention, yeah
And you know I can tell
the same, 'cause cock backwards is still cock you pricks
I love it when I tell 'em shove it
Cause it wasn't that long ago when Marshall sat, luster lacked,
They smokin' on cannibus while they tell us they jammin' us
Look a fan in the face and ask em' "Are you a true fan or what"?
"Are you really a fan
'em know your next move
Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence and violence?
Take it from your highness (uh-huh)
I done squeezed mad clips at these
at
Where the fuck you at
Time to put Puna on the map
On the map, look
They sleeping on me let em nap
Shhh if you talk so loud
This the Puna Boy Anthem
I pour
a Beretta, case of the pressure (brrt)
I tell the plug mail them
Which way? dat way, tell 'em, aye
Hold up, get right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)
Bad
ease the guns in
Rumble with patrolmen, tear gas laced the function
Heads by the score take flight, incite a war
Chicks hit the floor, diehard fans
the city where the poor flex
We push foriegn cars and park em in the projects
Screamin nigga we made it countin up stacks
Don't soulja hate me homie fall
a royal route?
It starts in Illinois, let me tell you boy!
If you ever plan to motor west,
Travel my way, take the highway, that's the best!
Get your
Ballin! Soulja Boy Up In Da Buildin
(Throw Some D's On That Bitch)
I Just Got My Report Card
(Throw Some D's On That Bitch) I
Just Got My Report Card
(Throw
You remind me of a folder
Push me down and I heat up like a toaster
That boy is a Soulja
I hate these niggas more than I hate being sober
I can't
your woo game won't work think
You a soulja I'm a put him on a camoflauge shirt
Berg, Weezy, look what I did to 'em choppa style
Gon' and put a cig
'em know your next move
Don't you know Bad Boys move in silence and violence?
Take it from your highness (uh-huh)
I done squeezed mad clips at these
neva put in work
Woot de woot said he gone spin on who
I bet i get em first
He gon wind up in a hearse
Tell that boy go back to church
No nine to five we
Nabisco. Brim low, all I can see is my flow. What's up Chicago? What's up New Orleans? And if ya strapped squeeze.
And tell the fuck nigga please, nigga
goin fly bout it
Send em to the sky bout it
Tell the truth why you lie bout it
Murder on my mind death around the corner I ain't hiding from it
I love
Puna on the map
On the map, look
They sleeping on me let em nap
Shhh if you talk so loud
This the Puna Boy Anthem
I pour to this, ooo fill my cup to this
Puna on the map
On the map, look
They sleeping on me let em nap
Shhh if you talk so loud
This the Puna Boy Anthem
I pour to this, ooo fill my cup to this
Discuss these stomp by soulja boy tell em 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