Lyrics:
Just a feeling that you get
When you hang with peasants
Ridin' down Crescent
My weapon is oh-so-sharp and ready
Ward of the 7th
The legend is that you
yet the temple, I'm comin to your town
Black down, the rental, car, the pistol
YAH! If you don't want a burn from Glock
Then beware, I buck shots,
Rollin' wid me Trues, drinkin' brews,
Don't start no shit we come equipped
So niggas stay cool, one eighty seven,
You think that you going to heaven
an angel
Standin' here by my side
Well, if I never get to heaven
It won't be because I ain't tryin'
Well, well, if I never get to heaven
It won't be
But beer don't
Big boss on your back, 'bout to get a cuss-out
Scopes off, low shot, didn't lay the buck down
Baby says bye and it down right breaks
be lost in heaven
I'm rollin' straight 7 so what up?
Like Bush Wisk said you play pussy get fucked, your outta luck
'Cause I'm the best mother
Here we go sailin' low
Bet your mom and pop, baby, will never know
We're steppin' by the river where the woodchucks go
Down by the Yukon Railroad
want a slice
Dance in 7th heaven to the Rhythm of the night
Who's the Master
Shi
Who's the Master
Me Bih
Bow bow bow bow
Bow to the your Master
Bow bow
I'm selling mine
Shots fired but expired by the 7th time
How the fuck you cool
You don't even know the rules
He just flew the coop and
Got chickens he
of light
That's right
When you dream about heaven
It makes you wanna die
Ask for the 7th destination
But do it on the sly
'Cause if your mum sees you
no frontin'
Choices need to be made on the 7th
A catch 22 in my midst, 'cause either way I'm fucked
Go to trial where I'll probably lose, or take my
Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch
Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch
Ahem, excuse my charisma, vodka with a spritzer
Swagger down pat,
No one ever touched me without wanting to kill me
Except for a healer on 6th street in Ridgely
Tessa DiPietro
Recommended casually by a medium I
momma, I gotta do eleven
Livin' in a five by seven
Dear baby, your man's gettin' worn out
Of seein' young boys gettin' they assholes torn out
In memory of you, dear old pal
(Words and Music by C. E. Snow â?? Hank, The Singing Ranger)G7 see E see see G7 G7 see Gdim G7Everything has gone
It's a match made in Heaven when I 'splay the 7
Put you on the nigga news, UPN at 11
Where you been? You ain't heard? Got the word that I'm
That I'm
the Jackson
My quantity start from a 7th
She top me before I start bashing
Lil mama she not even ratchet
Look leather man jacket
Reebok and khakis
I came a long
"I'ma say this and I'ma end mine
If you ain't down for the Africans here in the United States
Period, point blank
If you ain't down for the ones
of feelin' great
So they aim, duck-duck-duck 'em
Shot right back, buck-buck-buck 'em
Sorry, not sorry (buck 'em, buck 'em)
I got two words, fuck 'em
gettin stuck. Josiah acted a fool. Rasu, 7th Sign, What?!
[Krayzie/Bizzy:]
It's so many ways to die. Oh no! It's so many ways to fly.
Steady as we roll.
killas, straight up thuggas
Rippin bucks up bloody clothes
Gaugin' bloody watch this nickle trippin' shot and fuck 'em down
Buckin' them coppas down
5's and 10's
Slick sly sharp narcotic vendors
Always do business in shopping centers
Buck 'em stick 'em stuck 'em don't ever fuck me
5's and 10's
Slick sly sharp narcotic vendors
Always do business in shopping centers
Buck 'em stick 'em stuck 'em don't ever fuck me
naked, there's nothing to hide
Come carry my grievances down to the shore
Wash 'em away in the tumbling tide
I heard two cows in a conversation
One
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