Lyrics:
sick, call the SWAT team
Looks on the left of me, dressed in all blue
Got drama boys up on my right, I Hawaiian punch coupe
Who run it? Who run it
Who
(DJ Yung Rel what it do?)
(Don't play with him) blatt
Blatt (Chapo)
Woah woah, woah woah
762, 556, 57 aimed at you (Bratt-bratt)
We ain't doing no
story about a nigga
Who lives his life by the fuckin trigga.
Gotta get my serve on, nigga you don't hear me though
Throw up the hood, might blast
that's not wack
And my DJ, Joe Cooley's still on top of the stack
So you can say he's like wine, he's getting better with time
And General Jeff is by my
drinkin' wheat grass juice
Offended by my t-shirts, and how I behave
Just because I ain't rockin' dashiki's and braids
But if you know you ain't a bitch,
all excited about revival week
And being moved by the spirit, so to speak
With all the souls we've saved and money we spent
We though God told us
( *DJ Premier cuts up "Paula's Jam"* )
(Paula Perry)
(Paula Perry here I come)
(You want to battle)
(Paula Perry here I come again settin trends)
smoker, 'fore smoke
As I swerve by the curb on some herb gettin' smoked
Hittin' 16 switches is the life
While your girl send you to players anonymous,
B.Y.T.
Slip pass security to be by me
And I might be slidin' that too, providin' I do
Invite your crew, and I'll invite mine too
[Chorus: Inspectah Deck]
Luis
On duty
I'm wrong? sue me
She on to me
Get the groupie out I'm all loopy
Why you all moody?
Why involve Rudy Giuliani?
World turning all
Hobo piano blues
(Je suis aveugle devant mon piano )
Hobo habitait sur un carton d’emballage, au dessus d’une plaque de métro
il restait là en bas
never into Robins, at all
My niggas get the party started without a DJ (say what? No cap)
We on some gang shit, these niggas know how we play (come
Chamillitary click, is the click they wanting
You know that OG Ron see, gon screw it for them
[Chamillionaire]
A lot of DJ's, didn't wanna mess with the kid
This shout goes out to the most high,
DJ Rob Harris
Shouts going out to the next plane of reality
I know you can hear it
I know you can feel it
and ridin with ten techs
Ahh fuck any D.J that dont play Bizarre's shit
Fuck your sister I dont like her she dont suck dick
Fuck that nigga that talk shit
"Instead of guard your grill
Better guard your chest"
Knock out, see blues, greens, and red
Internal bleeding in Sweden in hospital beds
Understand the fact
i'm yelling at the top of my lungs is all void
if nobody pays attention at all it's just noise
Rez
they might raise there hands by the two's but
as strong
My pop a thug
I'm a son of a blood with blue Gators on
The record spinnin' his favorite songs
Now he's bangin' my shit on them same tables that
what to do, yeah
But some rush the door, ain't easy
Some preachy preacher's ways
Some sing of the blues
Everybody up, come on
Shimmy on, baby, you
_____ better be good for goodness sake
I quit rap to sing the blues,
Cause I'm tired of getting taken out by crews
If you believe anything in this song
mère de là
Bang bang drive-by Audi TT
Blessé 9.3 jours d'ITT
T'y es fini, t'y es viré
Demande à Ghix on s'en bat les couilles qui t'étais
T'avais
don’t know what you started
Ooh so uncharted
They looking for a target
The birds eye view got me confused I feel in hues now it’s the blues I don’t value
suive, je suis pas
Inculte je lis des livres
Ton cerveau je délivre
I can fly? I believe!
Je te l'ai déjà dit
Que dans binôme on est deux
Les drives-by te
VVS is 'round the throat
Dipped in all blue like a Loc
Took the squad to Bossanova
Melrose in a Rover
Why you sign me? It's over
Giving doubters
Discuss these blues by dj luis 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