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Search results for 'soulshine by pat green' Page #2
Yee yee! We've found 235 lyrics and 146 artists matching soulshine by pat green.
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Shout out, to my man Lil Flip Big Mo, Project Pat and the whole three six Yea, I know about them Texas boys Who keep a liter in the cup, and a heater in
Mm hm Any day spent without you incomplete Pulled up with the white Sk8-Hi’s all with the jeans I been spendin’ my days by chasin’ the green Now it’s
get da cheese, dats by any means If ya real, then throw ya set, let me see ya sign Project Pat, from the southside, out here on the grind While
pat-downs Put that money by my ear Issa rack crown (Ay) I pick up my penny, put it back down I'mma turn the London to a crack-house Turn a silver Rari
Masked up like an infamous bandit Quarter for the 40 nigga ask that's it? If I'm not at ya bitch crib I'm in transit Stones Pat $wazy they dirty
four from the cooler of ice Long green shelf of Guinness, toy leprechauns Four leaf clovers, Irish flags plant in the lawn A row devoted to Saint Pats
phone, just got paged by a curly curly Hit me on my horn three times if you want the crack But fool don't be paging me no more for no credit sack Sipping
(Chorus) I don't want to go to county jail no more more more Its a big fat policeman at my door door door He'll snatch you by yo collar make you pay
to the Wheel of Fortune where Pat don't Sajak Bring it to these cats often, the biggest payback is when I condemn men, to purgatory Stick a pen, do
green that, green fit, green hat Even got a green bitch with a green ass In Brooklyn took a green cab back where we at Can't see Pat, look, Peppy
You know how Mac play, quiet town, tie it down I supply it now, by the pound Might front you a Q if you buy a pound If you didn't try it then, why
be falling for no ho Tryna make it on The Hills, I ain't got nowhere to go Said I was born in Georgia, on the corner By the U-G-L-Y corner
a mere glock Place it up to your back Fat sacks your smocking on Mack man with a tone P-A-T bout the lout Riding by then I shoot Who's to say cheefin hay
Ask God to Lettuce get this green just like the Romaines I stay inside cause I feel safest in my domain If you come by this how I'll greet you
Mac play, quiet town, tie it down I supply it now, by the pound Might front you with a cube if you buy a pound If you didn't try it then, why
And people callin' it green That smoke how much I like it Again it's up to him I need to let some shots off And DJ Paul with Teflon also take that
Wanna be a baller, shot caller Twenty-inch blades on the Impala Call her, gettin' laid tonight Swisha rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike I hit
Wanna be a baller, shot caller Twenty-inch blades on the Impala Call her, gettin' laid tonight Swisha rolled tight, got sprayed by Ike I hit
from six, still mastered the streets We maneuver with rugers, over paper we'll do ya Smuggled the green moved the white, travel by night cause it's
addicted to thugging, that's why I toss in my sleep Tear drops on the sheets, how many I lost in these streets From Mafio to P-A-T, I'ma hold down the fort
We are the mean green machine We are the mighty green machine We are the boys from the Linwood Keas Yeah, Yeah We always winning Yeah, Yeah We always
Living by the title she call me a king I don't need a scale only He can judge me Gotta follow all my regiments, making all the green I get bright in
a slut Now this is how the shit begins I met Dana by one of my friends By Big O just to be exact We was just chillin' by my homie named Pat Then I heard
where i sleep, now give me my key [Verse 8: N.O.R.E.] New York get the blood money, dirty cash still sweet We will blackwall street by the swapmeet with
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