Lyrics:
can tell by the helix
You a pussy nigga, bitch, I'm finna call you Felix
I don't give a fuck about your mothafuckin feelings
I'm breaking through
hate me or envy me
I am a man in Gods image
You are a pagan God
I am coded on the number seven numerology
Before the numero Uno
I am the frequency
night I'd drop 50 on these niggas
This ain't like I keep havin' to remind niggas
That I really go to sleep and wake up in the kitchen
I lay by the waters
pshh
I got shitted on, for the voice in my head
And the blood that I shed
By the hands I was fed so I just
Bled as I fled (to the)
Life that I craved
we just met
7 reasons I'm saying goodbye
Spanish tortilla, I've had enough for two lifetimes
People talk a mile a minute
But they walk so slow
Doesn't
with some money on us
She givin' more cause I wanted more
Jecbaby Hefner a lover boy
Videos leaked, it was 7 to 1 huh?
They caught him sleep, who was you
greedy
U heard what X said better give to the needy
I know you like 8 but i got 7 tho
If we could work something out Let me Know
I got the better stroke
The streets wicked
Seen my niggas keep switchin
And others turned victim
Lost my brother to the system
Shit just never ending
Ain't no room for half
by want no ordinary life
Seeking for the truth around those bitches lies
Get your shit together for the perfect storm
If I blew my chance I kick in
Damn, damn, you tweakin' on the beat
7.62's in the AK, these bitches breathtaking
Bitch, shut the fuck up, you got my head achin
I'm in this bitch
air em out with 7, 6, 2's and 2 2 3's
We said fuck the drought, let's get up,and go get a Supreme
Mama still in doubt, I promise I won't die
Til it's empty
Heard that boy was sneak dissing
Now he swimming with fishes
Murda Murda kill kill
7.62s and hollow tips
Pop his ass just like a pill
I
BITCH IT'S HITTIN'
A BIT SUSPICIOUS
I TELL MY BROTHERS YO JUST LIVE YOUR LIFE
HOLD ON, I GET MY GIFTS FROM THE HEAVENLIES
SMOKE 'TIL I'M 77 IN A 7 V
Money on ma mind
Ain't gat no to time to waste
Young nigga from de street
Hustling to get papers
We Ain't talking bout no bitches
We just Talking
sticc
I lost one hoe off this shit, thank god got another bitch
I'm out on bond in my Prime ridin' with this choppa, 7.62s up in this bitch knocc down
a skit by myself cause they might tell on me
The homie in the feds he got a century
We was cool when I was little but that don't mean shit to me
Signed
And walk the streets without getting clapped
Just because I'm tieing the fuzz growing in my buzz
I'm doing my justice, bust this slug to the ignorant
Who
[Michelle Weeks]
Alarm goes off at seven
and you start uptown.
You put in your eight hours
for the powers that have always been.
(Sing it, child.)
the streets
And they're driving cars
They're all over the country
And they're running ours
They're walking on the wounded who won the war
What's
know
Because I wasn't even caught by five-o
Now who would assume Sunborn is a rat?
The same one who said I wasn't right 'n exact
For you are the one,
pushed me on the bed and this you can bet
In between her legs was real, real wet
So I grabbed her by her thighs and I moved up truly
She jumped off
pushed me on the bed and this you can bet
In between her legs was real, real wet
So I grabbed her by her thighs and I moved up truly
She jumped off
(Verlaine)
I was torn out by the roots
And laid out to dry,
My head was spinning,
My, oh my,
Well I walk the plank
And crawl through the mine,
right back on the street
A brother of six but number six is a black sheep
What the officer did was totally apparent
A color of black but that bullshit was
Discuss these seven by 52nd street 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