a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de my papers - brotha lynch hung

[verse 1: brotha lynch hung]
i used to push twenty-fo’ deep in ’92 like cocaine
had them gangsta n-ggas riled up doin’ it wit no name
stayin’ at the roach motel two for two cheese hamburger deals
doin’ shows in broke down clubs just to get a meal (just to get a meal)
i’ma keep it real it was all sk!lls that paid your bills
and the fact that you don’t pay n-ggas that sh-t gon’ get you k!lled
but don’t worry about me partna’, like i said i’m already dead
and i hold this infrared point blank range steadily at your head
’cause i’m a blocc n-gga you know what happens when you f-ckin’ wit us (f-ckin’ wit us)
we cut your tongues off switch n-ggas and stuff bl–dy ’em up (bl–dy ’em up)
run up in the cut, fucc it up, rough you up and put you up (put you up)
these broke n-ggas don’t give a mothaf-ck (mothaf-ck)
i want that meal ticket and we never will kick it ’cause you funny style
still wouldn’t f-ck wit you even if you gave me my money now
funny how ridaz get bought up, you about to get caught up like bo king
you be gettin’ n-ggas that’s why you ain’t got no team n-gga

[chorus: brotha lynch hung]
d-mn! n-ggas tryin’ to stick me for my papers
bam! hit ’em up wit’ enough lead got away wit the caper
ran! to the 1964 and smashed off
so f-ck your record company i’m about to blast off
d-mn! n-ggas tryin’ to stick me for my papers
bam! hit ’em up wit’ enough lead got away wit the caper
ran! to the 1964 and smashed off
f-ck your record company i’m about to blast off
[verse 2: brotha lynch hung]
i was young dumb full of cum full of o.e. and rum
spittin’ chunks of meat all heat always givin’ up where i’m from
in every verse 24 blocc, i don’t give a fucc
suppose to be in the studio but i’m somewhere drunk f-ckin’ up
but like too short i ain’t trippin’
used to be a record thing now it’s a new sport put your clip in
i heard you be dreamin’ about n-ggas in ski masks with bottles of black molasses
ran up in your pad quick and woke your ass up wit the magnum
i could have been platinum, a loc’ went bad when you jacked him
you gettin’ old like carl weathers you ain’t got no action jackson
i’m mirror watchin’ when i’m packin’ n-gga give me my sh-t
you the type of n-gga that’ll pay for hits i don’t pay for sh-t
’cause i’m broke you wanted it that why for some reason
couldn’t find you for nuttin’ ever since i did season
of da sicc, pick ’em off like deion everything you see me on
is stolen in your life pure wit’ a colon seriously until it’s over
i’ma always be at that ass wit’ a butcher knife
askin’ where you put your wife and why’d i took your life
houses got bought up you about to get caught up like bo king
you be gettin’ n-ggas that’s why you got no team

[chorus: brotha lynch hung]
d-mn! n-ggas tryin’ to stick me for my papers
bam! hit ’em up wit’ enough lead got away wit the caper
ran! to the 1964 and smashed off
so f-ck your record company i’m about to blast off
d-mn! n-ggas tryin’ to stick me for my papers
bam! hit ’em up wit’ enough lead got away wit the caper
ran! to the 1964 and smashed off
so f-ck your record company i’m about to blast off
[verse 3: brotha lynch hung]
sh-t it’s gettin’ to the point where i’ma smash on everybody
and it’s gettin’ to the point where i don’t f-ck wit n0body
believe it i tuck the ol’ shotty in the glove compartment
hit the town wit the pound, it’ll be ground round if you start sh-t
i spark sh-t, that heat you up and cool you off sh-t
no choice for relinkin’ homes i’ma get my profit
we struggled for years on the bus wit a record out
if it wasn’t for shows i’ll pull out the tec to take you out
hit the cut and lay low ’till i get my sh-t right
interrupt your day with fadeo’z put 44 holes in your windpipe
they know i’m… i’m sicker than sick when i split your sh-t
leave you coughin’ up liver bits, f-ckin’ n-ggas’ll get your grip
it ain’t safe, n-gga where was yo’ faith? we could of blew up
better watch how you do stuff can’t wait for the new stuff
it’s called lynch by inch i bit your b-tch on the ground
i say where’s the money? swiss account
b-tch d-mn! that n-gga’s tryin’ to get me for my papers
bam! hit her up wit’ enough lead got away wit the caper
ran! to the 1964 and smashed off
so f-ck your record company i’m about to blast off

[chorus: brotha lynch hung]
d-mn! n-ggas tryin’ to stick me for my papers
bam! hit ’em up wit’ enough lead got away wit the caper
ran! to the 1964 and smashed off
f-ck your record company i’m about to blast off
d-mn! n-ggas tryin’ to stick me for my papers
bam! hit ’em up wit’ enough lead got away wit the caper
ran! to the 1964 and smashed off
so f-ck your record company i’m about to blast off
d-mn! n-ggas tryin’ to stick me for my papers
bam! hit ’em up wit’ enough lead got away wit the caper
ran! to the 1964 and smashed off
f-ck your record company i’m about to blast off
d-mn! that n-gga tryin’ to stick me for my papers
bam! hit him up wit’ enough lead got away wit the caper
ran! to the 1964 and smashed off
n-gga f-ck your record company i’m about to blast off
d-mn! n-ggas tryin’ to stick me for my papers
bam! hit ’em up wit’ enough lead got away wit the caper
ran! to the 1964 and smashed off
f-ck your record company i’m about to blast off
d-mn!
[interlude: brotha lynch hung]
you know what i’m saying n-gga? (sh-t)
can’t do that sh-t for ever n-gga (you know you can’t)
you know what i’m saying? you gots to pay n-ggas (that’s real)
you know what i’m saying
f-ck all that sh-t, oh i’ma get mine n-gga
can’t stop that sh-t (can’t stop that sh-t)
you know (i know) back here where i’m supposed to be, you know? (where that at?)
it’s all siccmade music n-gga (you know)
now what?

[bridge: brotha lynch hung]
n-ggas tryna stick me for my papers
n-ggas tryna stick me for my papers
n-ggas tryna get me for my papers
n-ggas tryna get me for my papers
n-ggas tryna get me for my papers
n-ggas tryna stick me for my papers
n-ggas tryna stick me for my papers
n-ggas tryna get me for my papers
n-ggas tryna get me for my papers
n-ggas tryna stick me for my papers
n-ggas tryna stick me for my papers
n-ggas tryna get me for my papers
n-ggas tryna get me for my papers
n-ggas tryna stick me for my papers
n-ggas tryna stick me for my papers
tryna stick me for my…

[outro: brotha lynch hung]
rest in peace biggie and 2pac
you know what i’m saying
n-ggas put it down
shouts to them real n-ggas putting that real deep sh-t
you know what i’m saying, you know who you are
you know what i’m saying, making n-ggas cry over your sh-t
sh-t, making n-ggas ride to your sh-t
i like that type of sh-t you know what i’m saying?
that drunk, high, ride, night time sh-t
d-mn!

- brotha lynch hung

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS