letras.top
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 1000 ecstasy - rome streetz

Loading...

[intro: michael jackson in thriller’s video version]
what’s the problem?
come on, i’ll take you home
conductor

[verse 1]
ayo
when god molded me he made nothing else like it
it’s easy to be yourself, but lames still try to bite the likeness
n-ggas really ain’t worth sh-t, either way you slice it (n-ggas washed)
as long as my connect don’t play with the prices i’m righteous
a gold smile, pal your whole style was now cipher
my main focus is collectin’ check and drive the price up
on my bullsh-t when i mic’ up
i slide through, throw the smokеrs a pebble for pay, and then thеy pipe up
f-ck a short, but i take nineteen from my favorite fiend
he owe me a favor, i give him the gauge and he make a scene
arm filthy from the dirty dough, no way to make it clean
prada on the body of my hoe, she from jamaica, queens
head to toe in designer clothes, f-ck state greens
i seen a n-gga whole face ripped open in hd
caught a few cases and dirt, dunnie i’m waist deep
at this location, droppin’ a check in the ac
[chorus]
my n-ggas real right, fly hard sellers in margiela’s
the world is ours, swear to god, nothing you can tell us
i’m hurtin’ they heart, makin’ these n-ggas jealous
still smell the dope in my clothes, i’ll be a d-boy forever
real right, fly hard sellers in margiela’s
the world is ours, swear to god, nothing you can tell us
i’m hurtin’ they heart, makin’ these n-ggas jealous
still smell the dope in my clothes, i’ll be a d-boy forever

[verse 2]
i’m familiar with the scales, sandwich bags, and the frequent buyers
filthy bread, gettin’ slow head from ghetto mýas
my gun fire and it’s black, like a car tire
all of my bars barbed wire, they admire
despite them n-ggas all copy, but they’ll never be flyer
don’t give a f-ck about celebrity, that cheddar be higher
on my list, free my brother drama, he been down for six
since a jit’ been duckin’ the pigs in a crown vic’
they want the oxycontin pills, fishscale and that brown sh-t
aim at the target, make sure that all of my rounds hit
dope boy pedigree, a couple times a shooter at the scene allegedly
but god had plans for my destiny
life a b-tch i d-cked, but i’m lit so she don’t be stressin’ me
my bape satchel got a thousand ecstasy

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS

Loading...