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Yo, I've chose the old school beat with some lyrics It's the rule of the rap genre Y'all say that I need to keep the heat cfter I defeat critics
Yo, I've chose the old school beat with some lyrics It's the rule of the rap genre Y'all say that I need to keep the heat After I defeat critics
(we the best) Just pulled over in my 7-5 Big bottle on the dash, hope he let me slide Got 20 in the trunk you can bet me 5 20 minutes in they dump
monotone -(Verse3)- Cliowen 20 ans plus tard Lyrics yo ap prototype pi rèd (still) M’ap toujou ret mwen menm m’ap still cohérent m’direct Chire anba bwa’w
oblivion, missing the clues Fooled by this white washed tradition Refrain from these chains in your mind Take a little time just to recognize You're stuck in
Woulda Coulda Shoulda Music by S. Christensen/G. Madden. Lyrics by G. Madden You said that’s what you would’ve done Kinda late to be talkin’ bout
Now loading the Young Skipper Radio Network Ten percent Twenty percent Thirty percent Forty Fifty percent Sixty Seventy Eighty Ninety Let's get it
please say hi Sing along the lyrics one more time This is our graduation this our time Batch of 20 22 we to waiting to shine Put in these work yeah we put
the revelation Polygram buy Def Jam for twenty million MCA buy Polygram for eleven billion I come to Sony and get pimped by the Haitian-Sicilians
streets for nineteen years and not leaving My first priority's to reach twenty-one breathing Forever beef, nobody will ever be even So I grab the heat
streets for nineteen years and not leaving My first priority's to reach twenty-one breathing Forever beef, nobody will ever be even So I grab the heat
Master P Golds in They Mouth Lyrics [Chorus 2X: Master P] Them boys from the south.. got golds in they mouth.. Don't trust them when this sun
Felix Mitchell made money in 20 g stacks Moses split the sea, King Tut wore gold And Jesus, he's the King, so the story is told But my posse, we keep
Beaming through like a sunroof for the vibe I been less impressed you lyrics I'm not gon' lie Spending all my time writing rhymes and getting high
made it here by walking round with the spirit Didn't really think I'd be writing this in my lyrics Unexpected like when they judge you off your
the people in distance I air fly[01:05.81]Moving fast as lyrics that's written by Tech 9[01:08.79]Flyer than the rest, higher than the best[01:11.46]Wes Lee
pain Can't wait until my son shine and together we reign My queen's by my side like Manhattan Fuck rapping, this is poetic conviction My rendition is
hoe Just go home Get back in your Mercedes on your solo Wrap it up rapid, got the studio blasting Pack my bag, I got a package Bag of lyrics, it's
how Im kickin shyt, think I chase bitches not really I'm chasin a bill(Benjamin) Tryna get racked up like Wimbledon, say I'm complex with my lyrics
Watch the crowd burst from lyrics that I say To make the brothers get ill, and by the way Dukes If that's your girl in the corner stay up on her
that means and I'll I'll, I'll try to- try my best to do it for you) (Going back to The Matrix) I'm twenty-two and the world becomes uninhabitable by
for that) Brown paper bag (we the best) Just pulled over in my 7-5 Big bottle on the dash, hope he let me slide Got 20 in the trunk you can bet me
Is y'all ready for Twenty-0-7, it's now another drought Everyone's a killer, wow we bugging out Since 86 showing the crowd what I'm about And they
Is y'all ready for Twenty-0-7, it's now another drought Everyone's a killer, wow we bugging out Since 86 showing the crowd what I'm about And they
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