your taste is as fine as gravy The way you move that thang, you make me wanna sang Girl you make my bells rang, make them go ting-a-ling! [Aaron Hall]
Chorus - EDI Mean] Because I'm headin somewhere And them other (niggaz baby) (rappers gone) gonna be dead in a year Plus, I know you tired of them fake
[Sean Kingston] (Rick Ross) (*The Game) Yah mon!!! JR!!! Sean Kingston yuh know (Ross!) (*And the doctor's advocate) Beluga Heights! (*Let's go) [Chorus
shief gone break them hoes off gone represent the South Ima come through drinkin lean and I aint gonna cough Ima let them boys know how far I can go Ima
blame you nigga Who could blame you nigga, you doing the damn thang Staying true to the game, you deserve to swang [Hook] Behind that five percent, windows never go down Music never go
t jock me 'cause I'm popular The group with the glock, I love to pop the gun Coppers get shot, they shouldn't try to stop the Mafia 2Pac'll pack a person
I'm up before sunrise first to hit the block Lil' bad motherfucker with a pocket full of rocks Learned to throw them thangs, get my skinny lil' ass kicked
, we next or what? -nigga, we tryin to come up and raise them little ones -well, let's find a way out this shit -well, let's do dat there [master p]
Uhh, Hit them with a lil' ghetto gospel Yeah! Ma Ghetto Gospel! Ghetto, Ghetto, Ghetto, Ghetto we livin [verse one] 2-Pac If I could recelect before
[Intro: Sean Kingston] (Rick Ross) (*The Game) Yah mon!!! JR!!! Sean Kingston yuh know (Ross!) (*And the doctor's advocate) Beluga Heights! (*Let's go
me God's got his hands on you Geno (Chorus - 2x) There was this angel, whoa oh oh oh There was this angel, and it won't let me go [Darkside Ballaz
[talking: 2Pac] Hehehe (we can throw it off nigga) 2 niggas about to have a fight, look, look (we can throw it off nigga) (What's up nigga? What's up
hasn't finished with me yet I feel his hand on my brain When I write rhymes, I go blind, and let the lord do his thang But am I less holy Cuz I choose
Z] Ch-yeah! I'm right here in my chair with my crown and my dear Queen B, as I share mic time, with my heir Young Carter go farther, go futher, go harder
boys go crazy And watch the dope boys go crazy I pop my collar then I swing my chain If you catch me in the club pimpin doing my thang When they play
cause we in the mood to fight 2. This is that get crunk move bitch 2. Get drunk stupid 2. High like space, .45 on waist [Verse 2: Jim Jones] This is
't stop Shit don't stop [Chorus: repeat 2X] My jacket consist of Batteries on robberies, pistol charges, and murder I know I'm the realest nigga ya heard of besides 'Pac
if it wasnt for that Bun niggas might not know my name no more but every time they gave me that mike he told them hos to let me go. dj trippa sucken on