|
Flashlight Lyrics - Artist : Alchemist, The
[40 Glocc:]
The homies always told me it'd be days like this When we was chillin' on the stairwell wishing we was rich The judge got a grudge, wanna see me in court I chose to say 'Fuck 'em' and got my license revoked I got front, back, and side to side And what I don't get, I get it off another nigga ride Run that chain, run that watch Matter of fact, muh'fucka, run up out them socks I copped the new 6 off the lot I made a living off of niggas, taking shit they got My wrist like light bulbs, a hundred watts Got a bitch in Miami for a vacation spot Call P, ask Hav, let me borrow the yacht Yeah, I'm a little fucked up, I had a couple of shots Rap ain't shit but a cover-up for me After I run in his crib and throw the covers up on me Now everybody claim to be a thug White T, jeans creased, and G'd up We be chillin' VIP up in the club Come strapped, bitch, 'cause we don't give a fuck [Ras Kass:] We are not the same, nigga, I'm different Rassy spit a tsunami, I will twist ya then Fuck being hot, nigga, I'm blistering Gun butt, uppercut, I will clip ya chin-get it? Then I'll David Blaine, I'll lift ya then Then they dip ya in, right after your moms go hysterical and kiss ya skin And it's just a sin, I'm raised Catholic, go to confession and Crip again I'm not the one, we are not the two And your B.G.'s ain't acting so they not the zoo I get it in like hard dick in wet pussy In the pen on first watch 'cause them faggots killed Tookie Now I'm back with a lust for that ragtop Bentley Air Force Ones-fuck two pair, cop 50 And I brought Glocc with me, 11 shot Lawson Yeah, I brought Glock with me, my pop not picky I love hot quickies, mushing a hoe, stop hickey Even hoes I meet on my MySpace miss me You assholes the lamest of thugs 'Cause you kiss crack like Hoopz on Flavor of Love [40 Glocc:] Now everybody claim to be a thug White T, jeans creased, and G'd up We be chillin' VIP up in the club Come strapped, bitch, 'cause we don't give a fuck [The Alchemist:] When I rap, I speak reality, I don't just talk First of all, I'm the man that got the beats that rock Got you saying, "How the fuck he got the streets that hot?" Trying to double up the profit and increase that knot Representing the rebellious youth I don't beat around the bush, fuck the bullshit, I tell you the truth Like the bitch who got with you, I could tell that she's loose Only rap about the pistols, I could tell that you're new Baskin-Robbins style, I'll put you up in a scoop Every day is like the same shit stuck in a loop This is for that young buck on the stoop On the ones and the twos, with the needle straight stuck to the groove I show it's nothing to prove, they loving my moves Bad news for those that wanna fuck with my food 'Til the finish line, I'm stuck with my dudes Different weapons I choose to use, step on my shoes and get abused I dare you to make you turn it up My sour diez smelling like I already burned it up I put you on to something every time, I word 'em up I hold 'em up, get 'em folded up, I hurt 'em up [40 Glocc:] Now everybody claim to be a thug White T, jeans creased, and G'd up We be chillin' VIP up in the club Come strapped, bitch, 'cause we don't give a fuck I was standing on the corner, watching bitches walk down Crenshaw Then I figured I would order, Earl's hot dogs and peep the lip gloss That's when niggas got to trippin', some B dancing, some that Crip walk Just another day in Cali, fool, just don't get lost in this part |
Other Lyrics
|
Copyright © 2009-2024 |