Rhyme Room Lyrics/Paroles

par bilal 3755 vues -

(Verse) Ayo I’m done selling drugs and buying keys on consignment I’m about to buy a lab and purchase me a lion Drug money is sucks, I’m the lux, drunk as a fuck Be going hard, bitch ass you butt But still in all I gain I don’t know no other way I’m cooler than the M6 play I run with drug niggas who ya one day One pay, one K Sun play, some spray Half of these niggas underage They came with the purple T Grape shit, some call it gray I call it revolutionizing in the mix My money he man now Was shakin, don’t fuck with them snakes Fuckin with them fix hustle niggas is gay If that’s your thing, cold play Don’t get in my way We got hack saws that smack jaws, betray me Bout to get you more What you in this for? Aye chill The official just late, give him his way That’s my nigga no big and give him his space If they front on us we frontin back, piss in his face (Verse) Peace to the god, wussup? More I’m late in the cut Layin in the cut with a slut Late in the cut on the peanut butter guts With a slut but Brazilian, half to a but Denzel coo, stand niggas stall like woo Whippin that work like woo Brick flat woo, brick flat woo I’m penguin pussy goo Since I wage in a brand new coup Fuck niggas suck dick til you strangle Therefore hatin on a real ass G Like me talkin bout air got Anna Say fuck your bright but a nigga named Mike Fuck nigga, yea I’m a king in Atlanta You don’t wanna be a new star round the TV channel Talkin bout last scene in Atlanta Bitch I take your life, sleep good that night Crab crab legs in Savana I’m so Tony Montana Nose full of coke, M16, all black hammer Put coke in the street, in a week everything jump back Sweet Sweden and a can of Fanta Polo polo had the flow ho I got horses on pajamas Yea, late night I might take flight With 3 hoes like my name Santa Yea yea, I drive a Chevy and I treat it like a Phantom I bought a ’96 Impala and I named it MJG ‘Cause we pimp hard and we pimp hard And a bitch can’t ride for free Gone (Verse) Peace to the gods Way to hit the breaks home boy You about to fall asleep in the car Run a red light on me motherfucker I’mma pull the Chevy over and reach in the glove Speak from the blood Kin folk, you don’t wanna see my pin though You don’t wanna see me unplugged If I pull a 9 out, over night I’ll sign out You should know I gets a bug in the rug Get the buzz on drugs and chug a jug of sauce til I bust the goods Man I could make a deacon dirty when I speak I’m murdering, I make a mean mugging cause When I lean in the cut Listen, this 30 yard 6 when your out of that window Tiers in the mud Got the soul of an old man, I can feel the love So call me daddy, lay my balls on the cag ‘Cause I drive em nuts Don’t follow in envy if you ain’t following where ‘Cause I’m about grinding plus These songs that I write got life, I can sick em on tree They did grow target Takin more lefs to the boys in the Bronx I’m losing heroin Let em go ball, just give em more weed Dollars in the kitchen, povery Did I forget to mention I’m an emcee? That I have to prove it on BET And cyphered twice but that just might be I know So radioactive, had a couple of radio attempts But I don’t wanna be radioactive anymore now Than I wanna jump off a cliff This I promise, Catfish Billy, you can put Trunk Muzik in the picture frame You ain’t gotta tell me that I made a mistake and some of that shit was lame But all I wanna do is say fuck that shit and please accept my change I was on the tryna people please So people please, know my name Now back to the metaphors It’s better for me to settle scores instead of more self-loathe And I put tags on toes And like I’m in the morgue and I’m giving no pedicure Said a story now go on and set the melanol Set sail on a pale horse with a sword Yea me behold, in a white Caprice classic, pedal to the floor Flime of the seed in my pants ‘Cause I need what I need I believe that I can go achieve what I came to achieve And I leave you and you with the new CD in your hands Put it in, put it in, let the 808 fill that space Any kind of high never feels this great You can feel the taste, you can see that smell You can touch the moon when you hear that bass Thank God that I got this gift, damn right and I won’t shut up But the gray hair fall down like an OG, damn right and I won’t cut em Man, I’m on my shit Life is a trip when I’m jumpin over cracks in the road Say what you want to about this white boy But I know the truth and rap’s in his soul.