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Search results for 'lapd by la guns' Page #8
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trade ur toys for a gun Quita quita quita todo lo que pica Buscá un mantra hacete la vibra guns and tools from you small them taking you to school
Me and the crew are sending this out to all the rooskie population Peoples in NY, Detroit, LA, Chicago, Seattle, San Fran, San Diego Stand up
It's start as family Not like a gang Should I Pull out the gang (Pull out the gang) Pull out the gun (Pull out the gun) I swear I dégainn (Ehh) An ka de
nueva ola. Fotos para Nike y Adidas, yah, No me importa mas lo que digan, yah, En la mochila hay dope, uh, guns y tambien medicina, yah. CDMX, woah,
want the world and you want it now, oh my, oh my Life's a bitch each pearlative as time slips by Under the gun, you call that fun, slip into neutral
Shootés à la télé, ce qui nous fait kiffer C'est que des trucs loco Gros son, thugs, grosses cylindré es Les jeunes veulent des guns (Que des trucs de
by the nuts and tried to take my sausage as a hostage Ain't it obvious? Pretty much a no brainer, or should I say Cobainer? That she's plain addicted
Back in the days, this shit worked quite right It was the music that got me by, music touch my soul Music from the ghetto Ain't nobody tell me how
little brown bones La with your pink and gold /Is the driver still alive La orange blossom grove /are there guns inside La oh La /Is Sarah by myside La oh
bye-bye Gå och fråga folk, vi har gjort drive-by's La-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la-la La-la-la-la-la Om jag ville göra nått, du är lätt
heart at all (no, no, no heart at all) (Ma-Ma-Ma-Ma) Ma Baker She taught her four sons (Ma-Ma-Ma-Ma) Ma Baker, to handle their guns (Ma-Ma-Ma-Ma) Ma
ella La vi en la discoteca Bailaba, como no tienes idea First dance Letra y composición: Jandier, Gun Records Prod by: Gun Records Arreglos: Gun
LA (ugh) Like back in LA Where they ride slow She don't want fame no (ah) She don't want fame That's a passing ghost Watch your life pass-by Grab
Even when they flew me out to LA You stuck by my side And even when you knew i wasn’t ok You told me i would be alright Through these darker times I
V.N.G. Life in L.A. ain't no cup of ter Squeeze the trigger I've been dogged out by cops,shackled and socked Paid my dues to the streets,took my hard
la collina è un classico If u come lookin' for trouble boy u gonna find some If u come lookin' for guns yea u gonna find one If u thinkin' ya're
Santana Ah ah, oui oui On aime les loulous Mi love badman Mi love guns An pé pa trennen èvè pussy Cause mi love thugs Yenki big money No nigga Broke
to the trunk of his car (and what he get?) He got his gun and they start runnin' hard He started firing and then he just charged (Blaow) Run, nigga, run,
Why do we get judged by the color of our skin Black, White, and Brown, but we All American They want us divided that's the Only way they win i just
Deck the halls with boughs of holly Fa la la la la la la la La It's that time of year of joy All the girls and boys garner new toys This time when I
died I still want my money I ain't trippin' by that bitch, my Glock go la-da-da-da He was wolfin' on the net, my chop said la-da-da-da He ain't pay me
a truck driving son of a gun Well I've drove down every highway From L.A. to Bangor Maine And I've eat in every truck stop I know each waitress by her name
from East Los) So you better get to steppin' Yeah we the West Coast Weapons (Hella Guns, Hella Weed Smoke) The East Los Connection Yeah we the West Coast
L.a. L.A. Big city of dreams But everything in L.A. Ain't always what it seems You might get fooled if you come from outta town Cos we coming from
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