Search results for 'on the plane by blackfield' Page #626

Idees through my vein ass nigga
You can see me on the southside of the street
Man remembered by the ((opposet)) nigga that flod the city
Get ready for

Taught by Master Fard, hard
Now I'm pulling your card (Ah yeah)
We travel, unravel, dabble in the dopeness
A jam that make you want
To know who wrote this

on the fifth seven hundred on the shoes
I gotta win, damn if I lose
Whips fly in the wind
Checks coming by the twos
I gotta win, damn if I lose
All my ex’s got

enchanted by your song that I can't hear a word you say
I've been where your head has lain 
I've seen the other hearts you've slain 
But I've been fighting

now getting flocked to by these woman 

The type to take me home and Topple they traditions 
Her white family was hoping she would stay away from niggas

And we're touching down from Russia on a plane we hijacked
We steppin' on toes? Let me get you an ice pack
Stole your time piece, here man have your

French Guy:
Now Madame Blueberry was a sad little berry
She lived by herself in a house in a tree.
Her butlers would show up each morning at nine

& baby ride out

Seen it all before 
Tension
You can leave it at the door
Plane ride 
We leaving at 4
LAX, STAPLES, seats on the floor
Got that A.D.,

me a fan
I ate five shots that's why they mad
One hard ass slug left bruh in the past
I hop on the plane with like fifteen bags
Your bitch flew ten too

I'm leaving you
Don't need the pressure nor
The second guessing
No matter what I'm blastin'
I'm leading through
My fashion is I'm truly dead
And by

sprich eine
Dua, letzter Schuss aus der Glock, sprich eine

Drive-by Shots in your Beamer
Inclusive auf Sativa (brr, brr)
Sitz' im Rausch in einem

I'm feeling inside
I need peace but I'm in pieces still, I know

I need a million to get me by
And people hate me but don't tell me why
Feel like I'm

Let me sit back & reflect on my memory 
Can't name a nigga who bitching me
Raised by my mother but no ain't no bitching me 
Most of these niggas be

don't hang by fake love
So I keep hymen like a nun, never fuckin' with niggas bruh
Check the leaf it twist- ed
They ain't with it
They goin' swear they

Kids on the Ave

Miilkbone

Da Miilkcrate

1995

The block's hot, the block's hot with top notch glock shots
Surrounded by fiends but in for slingers to drop rocks
The blue baggy bender boys, that's

never knew a brake
Let's go, can't nobody tell me wait
Can't slow, a plane that won't accelerate won't elevate
So I followed workaholics, going where they

fam's name
Your hand stain, stab in the back of your man dang
Beats by Dre, earbuds playing the game
Wanna hit the west coast, bout to catch a plane

met the plug in a small town by Mexico

You ain't ballin', you just talkin' like an analyst
Scorin' like a pink, diamond cup full of amethyst
You

with a steak
I'ma go and roast your ass by the bank
Ooh, nigga, you lookin' at his ass
Have a new nigga to put you back on the dash

Everyone call, fuck

you for being you and for doing what you do
Never stop making music, especially the kind that spreads the truth
You know that God is by your side,

goes by
Year after year, I'm getting older
I'm wondering how I survived
I'm craving feeling (feeling)
I'm craving soul (I'm craving soul)
Yet I'm only

and make a preacher scream out Holy Shit!'
This niggas triple-six, but the reverse of it
Slaughter tracks sorta like the murders commited by Berkowitz

wind while in the plane
Joined up with cloud just to cop revenge
On sight for Shinra they can not contain
Due to broken dream this is all my rage
Its not

round with frustration I was full of rage
Now I watch the sun rise before I board the plane looking at the clouds the view got me so amazed
I turned