Lyrics:
Creep, Creep, Creep
Kya h ye shabd
Creep, Creep, Creep
Kya h iska mtlb
Akhir m ye hi kehna chahunga
Don't judge boys and girls by their looks
Because not
And dubstep shit
Then throw in some reggaetton
And you're a bad boy!
Lyrics dealing about drugs
Depressive thoughts in harsh violent streets
Trapped by
the wickedest ting
Nike boot to your flex, the wickedest ting
Big money man' earn, the wickedest ting
Them boys aren't ready for
The wickedest ting
It's no long
a down sister
Boy, I tell you, I miss her
A-yes, yes y'all, and you don't stop
To the beat, y'all, and you don't stop
A-yes, yes y'all, and you don't
back in distaste
I've simply lost my sense of...taste.
Lyrics by: R.H. McClurg
that I started with nothing
Now everybody know the boy is up to something
These are scary times
I had to sacrifice
I got em by surprise like I was
MC's
The W-Y-C-L-E-F, Wyclef
Through any contest
I'm victorious
Still keep it real, if you will and manifest
Through your skills, not by how many
My Weed In My Backwood
With The Same Finesse cs Your Hips
Baby yeah! (BcBY YEcH!)
You Gone Make Me Go Real Crazy Up In Here
[VERSE 1: Ty Balla]
an exclaimation
Just look at the center of the stage where the spotlight shines
(Eazy E: Boy you should have known by now) It's mine !
Unpredictable, keepin you
here
and ain't tryna hear nothing 'cause we had it
up to here
lyrics have no dress code
from KRS to depeche mode
Kid I'm so cool you catch
and boys, I'm afraid
I had to sell twenty sections
Of the S Lazy H
Sometimes right isn't equal
Sometimes equal's not fair
There will soon be rows
your class in dead weight
Ain't no fire escape from hell, every devil ain't pale
I blast like H.G. Wells: "War of the Worlds"
Allah is Lord of all,
MC's
The W-Y-C-L-E-F, Wyclef
Through any contest
I'm victorious
Still keep it real, if you will and manifest
Through your skills, not by how many
knew you'd be mine!
Music by Eddie Snyder
With lyrics by Stanley J. Kahan, 1957
Ho$h, kykie kinders!
Ons gaan mos nou lekker naai ne?
I got what you want boy, I got what you want
I got what you want boy, you never going
you're gettin' fucked out your green by a white boy
With no Vaseline
("Now you're gettin' done without Vaseline")
("Now you're gettin' done without
on them pills
Dade County dope-boy, best believe I'm 'bout dat doe
Chose come up get em yep, we ain't really by that def
Yeah, I'm the future, got
Roll Me Back in Time Lyrics
He was just a boy of seventeen
And I was older by a year
And we spent everything we ever made
To get away from here
(Woy)
(Woy)
You can't test BDP boy (Woy)
So bust this down (Woy, Woy)
While I got your attention I feel like just
lettin off two or three lyric then
it feels different
Uh, I only love her if her eyes brown
Play this shit while you play around with my crown
King H-O, y'all should know by now
Your lyrics are incorrect, so you step to me
Lookin' for the key to release that first piece
Three times two is six, Pete is one-three
I'm the other
of your head
Sleepless nights on an H.P. bed
A daddy by the time you're twenty one
If your happy with a nappy then you're in for fun
But you're here
Its Lyric call the paramedic yeah men
Oh lord have his mercy eh eh
Oh lord of his mercy he don happen eh
Uh uhuh uh uh uh
Uh uh uh uh
I been dey
on
Cause I don't give a fuck
We going H.A.A.M on these streets
But we not police
We them Double Down Deuce boys from DC
See Lee, and he seem so friendly
Try
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