up boy, 'cause I don't give a fuck boy Now, back the fuck up Throw ya hood up Back the fuck up Now nigga what Back the fuck up Throw ya hood up Back
Översättning: C-Murder. Tillbaka Upp.
business, you just never know - (Lil' Kim): SHUT THE FUCK UP! Who the fuck want war? Fed-Ex beef straight to your front door. It'll be a murder scene
kid, troublesome, thrownin' shit at little girls jump ropes Bustin' B-B Guns at stray cats, that was way back Watched it die, covered in flies Then I picked up
shit (yeah, c'mon) Took home "Life after Death" and they studied it (that's right) Listened to the double disc (yeah) Now they all spit, like they all legit (c
, when I spit these bars Come fuck with these stars up in luxury cars We built them radars to stay free from the cops Crucial choices to make like A-C
that always give me back pain Fuckin' up my money so, yeah, I had to act And short nigga but these ho's love my accent She came up to me and said this
he Woke up chillin' in N.Y.C. Called up my posse when I got there Hit the Latin qarter Union Square Rooftop Devil's nest the rest we passed Back doored
he Woke up chillin' in N.Y.C Called up my posse when I got there Hit the Latin qarter Union Square Rooftop Devil's nest the rest we passed Back doored
Thanks to dalyricalmaster@tupac.com for these lyrics. (Intro: WC) Dub-C from the Westside Connect Gang Dub-C from the Westside Connect Gang Dub-C
my shit and I don't give a damn Roll up, your eye will get swoll up Suckers who flexed yo, their deaths got tolled up, holled up 'Cause I'm not the
of leaves gucci mane fuck up the sound dead drunk like my uncle touch my brother dood n i'll cock and shoot or cut your throat gucci mane fuck up the
my bitch riding five And every time I pull up, you know I'm iced up When I step up in the club, I light the bitch up Back on my saddle, blowing purple
to tell the truth, the whole truth And nothin' but the truth, so help you God? Fuck you, Honor Pitt is back for another one This time he's back harder
, you know better, we live M O B Money Over Bitches, Murder, I N C I got two or three hoes for every V And I keep 'em drugged up off that ecstasy I'm
veins, it's just hot Until a nigga can't take it no more Blood of a slave, heart of a king turn my voice up Aiyyo, the brother's stillmatic I crawled up
attention Queens niggas run you niggas, ask Russell Simmons Ha, R O C get gunned up and clapped quick J.J. Evans get gunned up and clapped quick Your whole damn record label gunned up
wanted by the manager Soupin' me up sayin', "You're a good worker How would you like a quarter raise, move up to the register Large in charge but cha gotta be my spy Come back
