Lyrics:
Streets my heart I love her to the core
But she just like a bitch
Man she fucking with them all
So, I'm strapped up never coming in the raw
Magnum when I'm
a sock in that bitch
Throw you off in a ditch
Boy you soft fuckin snitch
Brother got by with a face mask
He don't wanna take that
There he fuckin goes
straight up with
Kinds of make up
'cause eveyrtime I run, scream, pop a 3-80
I hear a mother scream
"Please not my baby!"
Quick as I see it's you
Bullets
silly
Young, cool kid from the boondocks
Copped a new watch
Wrist wet, looking like it's dripping dew drops
Hallelujah, talking to my crucifix
Sipping
but a bitch on the tour bus
Pour piss on you, leave you stuck with four months
My head fucked up, I'm off my clean streak
Don't make me pick
the pootie with a Plank, B
'Cause me and my crew were out breaking windows
The bingo, the lotto you know I'll never win those
Possession is half the law
I
to the mountains
Smokin on gas yeah we blow
It by the pound bitch, nah
In the foreign car in the stolen car
I be with the stars you know who we are
I be cookin' up
Finesse you out your pockets bitch we bout it
(finesse finesse)
Only rock designer smoke exotic
(rock designer nigga)
Excuse my while I smoke this
' choose yo' wars
Or be like me muthafucka and do it with two guns
[Chorus: x3]
Check my war wounds (uggggh)
My war wounds (ugggh)
Every soldier got
the news
We get followed by a camera crew
All I want is the green I need a mountain dew
You ain't that tough when you ain't with the crew
Be rich or be happy
on the beard
On the beard of Aaron
Running down on the collar of his robes
It is like the dew of Hermon
Which falls on the mountains of Zion
For there the Lord
for real, I don't need a fuckin' deal
I can rock the whole city by myself, like baby crib
I come from a cold city, but I'm hot like I'm a heater
And I'm
it)
cnd If you think you fuckin' with me bitch I'm bout it (Bitch I'm bout it)
Yugh, bitch I'm bout it
Grip the pen so much my fingers calloused
I been
to the corner slangin loose and clumps
Gotta live ghetto fabulous with rims and bumps
Gotta have the fuckin heater cause my hands are stingin
Coming back in
Rollin' in a golden Tacoma, the shit's stolen
If that bitch tell on me, I'ma do a fuckin' drive-by in her colon
With my meat, gotta keep it obsolete
as hell
you dont' wanna step to close or go to far
cuz where i'm from shawdy niggas beat you down wit they cars.
Fila brought up from my head to my feet,
the vodka on rocks
Losing my inhibitions
Who is these bitches
Why they only roll with swishers
Why they on this boat
And if they do not hold
A few stack
the BX
It's funny how I walk around with
A 45 and a 3X
Big chain get you smoked like I love Lucys
Just me and my Cubans, I love Lucy
Finna age, look
dropped from labels
For fuckin' with a nigga that's hot and fatal
I'm like the henny, rock the cradle to these little ass pre-schooler
Nursery rhyme niggaz,
your elevator go up? (Nope) You ain't rap too tight
Right, you can tell me, G-H to O-S-T
Two hundred Bees'll get you killed by coke head Skeet
This is
shit
I lost my mind
I can't get it back
The way that I'm spittin', yo
I spit ya fuckin' wig back
Don't front, my squad got you opin
Hit you with
and a 9-nickel
Wit a dick that gets your bitch like a pickle
(Oh) see, I'ma mothafuckin fool
In my house shoes
Nigga what'cha thought the fuckin
Game is fo'?
on by
Lookin hella tasty, as she’s waving hi
Head on to my table, cop a couple bottles
Felling hella playful, with a ton of models
Bump at Marquee,
Fit crazy, like I'm doin' lean ups and kush ups
Boy, you must have hit your fuckin' head and sniffed some good stuff
Never know the whip I'm in, my
Discuss these fuckin with my head mountain dew rock by beck 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