Lyrics:
pony knows the way back home
I walked from Natchez
To Hushpakina
I built a fire by the side of the road
I worked for nothin'
In a Belzoni saw mill
chickens by the whole
And make a stop at your liquor store
And go pick yourself up a couple of 40's
Your brother, your mother
Your father, your sister
Your
Well, it was Friday night last week we got pulled over with an O
53 and Ogden by a condescending po
Tried to fill his quota book
Stopped us no
know how it is
TIME OUT! We be tryin to score where we live
[Chorus]
[C-Rayz Walz]
We live, where a 40 and a blunt is breakfast
And police swerve
fired by a gun
forty-eight hours, two cycles of the sun
I couldn't run from the shock that paralyzed my tongue
it made not want to speak a word to anyone
be proud if he could see
Your orbit will increase by forty-three inches every century
Johnny was a good boy
But got messed up by the wrong crowd
Everybody liked him
And he made his mother proud
But Johnny had a habit
And it wasn't
You've got me hanging by my throat.
Swinging from a tree,
Swaying in the breeze.
As I die my eyes glaze over.
Swinging from a tree,
Swaying in
activity is not mandatory, and those of you who don't believe in a Judeo-Christian God as defined by Congress, should feel free to sit quietly with your
and I smoke blunts
Forty ounce of private stizzinock
Standin' on the corner, holdin' my jizzinock
Watching all the girls, pass!
Boy she got a big!
can't say we don't do drive-bys, I'd be lying
And what's the difference anyway long as them niggas dying?
Kel-Tec came from Delta, 5056 bullets flying
All the stones in my watch collection are factory
They still wearin' forty-one mills
I-I was twenty-one, I brought everyone grills
Gr-Grindin'
and dropped by
With sixty elephants, llamas galore
With his bears and lions
A brass band and more
With his forty fakirs, his cooks, his bakers
His birds
web
Grip so tight in your shoulders
Bite down with the force of forty men
Bound by immortal desire
Soon you'll be the king
Sure as the shape you're in
popped
By the cop in the drop or you in your train truck
Oh my God, guess what? Snipe' dot to your spot
Screaming please don't shoot we just trying
'Round the way work, jewels in the ground, hit the pay dirt
Love is love, you in good hands, Dennis Haysbert
Openly protected by who you be neck and neck
the court
Sun beatin' heavy, a Chevy pull up and sit by the hydrant
Rosary and a visor, rims burning the tires
I'm running up the block, numbers in
Street
Met her by the pool
I won't front that's a trophy though
But at least everyone appreciates the view
You trying to network while I'm building a net
Devised as fighters against the wrong
Riding our special horses
Funded and supported by royal decrees
And don't forget radical greed
Butchering,
beat de Mash pour Beats By Dre pour 40 000 sous
What you gonna do?
Tout est au rendez-vous, sauf les views
D'un coup, d'une fois que j'pète une fuse
Imma go get them
Blow with them
No hit them
I aint gone smoke up on them trees
See imma lead by planting a seed
Call me jack and the bean stalk
Don't
bald one day (2x)
Sittin' with my homies
On a 120street
Drinkin' on 40
When I should have been home
And everybody told me
That the game don't last long
eh yeh ain't gotta fucking me
cause I ain't fucking witcha
I'm riding dirty with this work and my mother picture
.40 cal under my shirt and another
question
Henny, tequila to flex (okay)
Few shots of the Henny I'm tipsy, I'm shmizzy
This shit got me textin' my ex (goddamn)
Smacked by 10:45
Got
Discuss these 40 by u2 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