Search results for 'jack ass by beck' Page #37

the hoe like she just a fan
Half you niggas got no cash
I'm flexing on yo broke ass
My crew neck and my Bo Jack's
Better cuff yo chick like Kojak cause she

if he tryna jack
Lettin off shots really quick in a flash Glock 18 rapidly put you on blast
After i drop you im robbin yo ass
Ouhh damn Son of a gat

down
Speed up
She say I'm freaky freaky
So wet might need a Squeegee
She a freak like a one sheet I swear to God she about her business
Ass keep going

a hoe say
Open up the show Fly Rae spitting that's the code name
We up in this hoe when I'm spitting I don't know pain
Trippy ass nigga watch him slipping

names and after that I'm kickin' ass too. 
Breed,kinda of tha (can I get a rhyme to go) 
Hey yo Pac ill set back and design it slow. 
They hate to see

with a busty tits and butt
Kinda fussy but has guts, to get paid by busting nuts
I know you all bitches need an income to live
But bitch you really think

currency, just came up off some euros 
I don't want no cash back 
I'm making booty records 
But y'all niggas got ass tracks
I bet y'all pull it out of ya ass

a nigga dead-ass on Cicero
I'll take a nigga-ass life, take his whole soul
Nigga, I be strapped than a bitch like some Velcro
Nigga, off the wall like some

Big ebk, don't lack
He gettin shot ion care what he jack
I'm trynna bend through flock at his hat
Ahh, ahh, get put in a pack
Talk bout bands, where

bitch, and now it's hard to get her back

All these lil' hoes want my love, so they keep blowin' up my jack
She keep tryna fall in love, I'm tryna fuck, no

they fell for me
One by one I'd curve 'em all
Schumacher swerve 'em all
Smack that ass like a damn beach ball
Cowgirl riding me like yeehaw
I feel like

will kick your ass crack
I poured my heart into this disc kuz I'm a master my craft Facts

Yo yo yo just admit that you love it
If this song had a dick

fake
Ass betta break-fast 'fore
He get his food ate like a Egg McMuffin
He ain't the only nigga fuckin'
That chick he cuffin'
Yup and homie dick ain't

And coaches nowhere
It's 3 o'clock in the morning
Bruh we ain't sleep, we ain't yawning
My hungry ass trying to get on man
I'm up past 3 o'clock up in Oakland

like it was some tires
Doing jack shit like you working at Piper's
Smoking your ass off but my mental will always be higher
Calling on homies cause I

stutter
Did I cough
It’s Free Drick and Wodey
Free all them jitz
Pull up on your ass
I’m with all the shits
Call my my gun Lucane
It got all the kick
For

like cupid?
Ain’t connecting with her, like the wifi slow
Ole “drive me to here for a drive by” hoe 
Ole Jack and Beanstalk giant ass hoe
When she step

color bang so I could give a fuck wat you repping
Could give a fuck bout your section
He survived ten shots
Cool, let me introduce yo ass to lucky eleven

it, big boy diamonds
Make ya bitch go Jack Nicholson crazy
It must be the shining, shit too blinding
But no matter the circumstances you gon see me work

a million dollar spot
Out in Romulus
Slap her on her ass with some money
That's a compliment

Late nights
Early mornings burning up the strip
(Burning up

white but then
They are black I got em mix matched

Ion  never wanna be cool wit yo bitch ass
Jack that nigga for his weight
Make him slim fast
Yo bitch

In My Neighborhood

Spice 1

Hits

1998

trippin', I got this 187 Proof by my side
It's finna be on

Is that right?

Yeah

But where you stayin at, man, what's goin' on?

Same mothafuckin'

Saturday Nite Live

Masta Ace

SlaughtaHouse

1993

on the map
And by now I know I'm hitting
Cause I say a rhyme and girls be like, "Uh no he didn't"
I'm so nonchalont, word to my uncle and my aunt
I serve

Just Kickin' Lyrics

Above the Law

Livin' Like Hustlers

1990

[ KM.G ]
Yo, this is somethin new by notorious-ass Above the Law
In the motherfuckin place
The Illustrator KM.G
Yo 187, you gotta let em know what's