Lyrics:
I wake up in the morning, just glad my boots are on
Instead of empty in the whispering grasses
Down the Five at Forest Lawn
On the set, the makeup
Hoo
Hee
All alone she's in the ego zone
The word is out that you're doing wrong
On the move got fire in your shoes
By word of mouth you are
Apocalypse Now
Mind over matter next batter be Tical
Put it on a platter how much uncut
Raw shit we dealin' wit, murder track what
Slang killin' it,
can I trust in this cold world?
My phony homie had a baby by my old girl (oh-whoa)
But I ain't trippin', I'm a player, I ain't sweatin' him
I sex his
since I lived like an orphan powered by the liquid reality injected into the veins by needle, in a fucking foster house of hell, and mother and father,
just be getting it gone
So many calling my phone
Touching them hundreds in fall
She wanna taste of the raw
She want a round of applause
Stuck to that
got blue chips in the face
Glock with two tips, whoever gets in the way
Not to mention the hideaway that rests by the lake
Consider my raw demeanor
got blue chips in the face
Glock with two tips, whoever gets in the way
Not to mention the hideaway that rests by the lake
Consider my raw demeanor
don't like me.
I should go up in the bitch bustin.
But they got innocent by-standards..
that never did the click nuthin.
(Chorus 5x)
Da, daa, daa, daa
And then I connect to raw business
Uh, if there's an upper echelon
Then every echelon should know I'm in this
The airhole on a barrel make
The TECs so extra
numerous
Shots with the fo'-fo'
Fagots running to the Po-Po's, smoke em like cocoa
**** rap, coke by the boatload
**** dat, on the run-by, gun high,
rap, coke by the boatload
Fuck that, on the run-by, gun high, one eye closed
Left holes through some guy clothes
Stop your bullshittin, Glock with
numerous
Shots with the fo'-fo'
Fagots running to the Po-Po's, smoke em like cocoa
Fuck rap, coke by the boatload
Fuck dat, on the run-by, gun high,
platinum, seen it on them tarots before
So I know how it is all gonna go down
Gotta go more uptown, more in the cloud
'Cause didn't ya know by now, I'm
say it's on, then it's on
Bang this in your whips (uh)
Pack 'em call the roadie with the chips in the wrists
Here's a French kiss
I dismissed all
I'm addied up, added up
I just ate a plate for breakfast
Put it in a cup, then I mix it up with Texas
Chest feeling heavy like a midget on my
steak and bacon with Satan
They can abrup-tly be taken by Yates
And I'm placin' this blade in his guts,
Amazing to us sleknov raisin' a cup here's to,
that my niggas ain't never lived to see
Tell them angels open the door for me
From nine Berettas and moving raw to chilling in wine cellars
Sticks
cost
I can’t give her my heart but I raw dogged her
That’s the dawg in me
Real ones all u see
When u come round me
Fake shit don’t come round me
Snake
the Octagon with two razors
Bet y'all didn't know I had a fake arm
I lost it, wild and raw before rap, I was gettin' it on
Took a fat nigga out in like
pussies
Migos, Young Dolph that's a lot of loots
Raw sushi, drop a 40 pack off in the hood
Watch that bitch go stupid
Fuck you totin' a pistol for
Nigga if
take it and put the dope in her coochie
Selling the dope and it's raw sushi
Hop out the drop top, two-piece
Quick start the whip, need no key
Fuck
TEC got murdered in a
Town I never heard of
By some bitch named Alberta
Over nickel-plated burners
And my bitch swear to God she won't snitch
I told her
s*** in his arms, broken
A young mind distorted emotions, is there an upside?
His brother got murdered up North by milletas
Ma-ma, battlin', cancer,
Discuss these in the raw by crashdet 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