Guns N’ Roses

Uh uh, uh huh
Clipse (Clipse) , Exclusive shit (Exclusive shit)
Yeah, whooo

Guns n' roses mafia proses
Briefcase money, hot cars, and hot clothes
This is the life, nigga that's the life

I wouldn't have it any other way
Yeah, gun play burning loves the one die
Makes me cry some days
Lawless, riding backwards on a one way
D color flawless, bitch I reek of money
(bitch)
Fast life, born to die, who gives a fuck
We done seen it all by 25, and lived it up
From the rawest to the raw
To the slug through your door
They missed you but pressed your bitch
In a hollow tip bra
There's science to the way we move
Cock tools and walk through the club without
Scuffing our Prada shoes
On this side we on the by by
We buy the rules so when you play with us
Y'all niggas just gotta lose
Lust for them things that turn women to wives
Live for that shit that
Determines your street size
Run with them twins that
Waters you mother's eyes
That's diamonds, cocaine
And burners on my thighs
Raw like peeblo, guns and mink coats
Light up canoes, til titanics I sink ships
Love doing bitches with pink lips
Call me Padre talk shit with a gun in my
Hand call me cock ay
Did this straight, bricks ain't large
Bricks for weight, filling a
Crate, filling a barge, now that's large
Sipping blue ells, and playing cards
Plus a pat on the back
From the fucking coastguard

Yo yo, i got a love for small
Arms and hair pin triggers
Dare niggas third in my crew
It's known killers
Model hoes that sniff blow
With hour glass figures
We live for raw sex and 80 proof liquors
Run, walk, and crawl for catching hot balls
From my dogs who take game
While smoking lock jaws
Why burn your mouth in the name of cheat talk
Be prepared to change your tune by
The time my heat spark
After dark get your crew for
Me is a cake walk
And I love rap records with lots of gun talk
It's day time two both pies on waist sides
Can't trace, I cop fat cribs on lake sides
I make five which is why y'all hate
I got dark skin
Jet black bitches with jade eyes
We wildin out, hang them high
And dry them out i do them type of things
Y'all niggas is lying bout
My speech is the reason my race is dying out
So I pray to God the same
Time I'm pulling the iron out
We rock stars, smoke red, mixed with lobster
We Jamaican sexing, pillow talking
And pop trois
In pasta, look, you wanna be a mobster
On stage recipient of a nice guy
Malicious nigga y'all cats fictitious
When the shit hit's
It's how you know we mean business

When the slugs hit's
I wonder will the pain last
See my life like a movie
Inside my brain fast i'm asking you
Cause we used to rock the same ass
When I die, put me in
Mausoleum with the stained glass
The stained glass when the slugs hit's
I wonder will the pain last
See my life like a movie
Inside my brain fast i'm asking you
Cause we used to rock the same ass
When I die, put me in
Mausoleum with the stained glass
The stained glass

Beliebteste Lieder von Clipse

Andere Künstler von Hardcore hip hop