I'm sick of these bloggers cent
camera, americanmusic, wrestling, cent, speak english, newsletter, tego calderon music song lyrics, daz, 8ball & mjg, teachers, r. kelly, candy shop, hot boys gangsta nigga song lyrics, lyricz.com, loudonwainwright iii, ringtone, 1999 (album), When I needed bloggers you the most I hit rock bottom I couldn't see that we was close Yo box, watch em Now they all Champaign Ballin campaign Yeah that nigga fall in the bloggers rain Dirty ya joints poppin like you greasy burger enflamed Every verse I drop's another small piece of the pain Shit'll never be the same After we got burned Niggaz is burnt out And yo there's nowhere to turn Like court adjourned Without a quarter to burn Short of return To the same game in order to earn Y'all niggaz don't learn I ain't bloggers concerned by far Spit six bars like gem-star, stitches, and scars Niggaz dry snitchin, yo they intuition bizarre Picture me starved Without a partner, pitchin is hard Listen, my jaw, to find the right position tomorrow Is mission imposs? I be yellin really my eyes Niggaz kill me when they nod like they really alive [Kastro - Verse 4] You ain't shit without your homeboys Y'all ain't no grown boys I feel it all and no voice Now you stuck with no choice Get on the ground, give up your property It's like monopoly With Jersey Mob this time, they're ain't a mother fucker stoppin me That's why I pop three in my throat Wait for my shit to drop and it's murder she wrote Forgot to pull it close And I got enough to go around for everybody challengin Guns, never silence, I'm still wildin like Allen And Mister Jeru, well it's mob.
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I'm sick of these crews, actin like they've been payin dues I put the heat cent to em, tell them niggaz kick off they shoes What would you do in the position when it's us against you? That Teflon mother fucker, can your head take two? Shut the fuck up 'fore your luck's up What you gonna do when your shit's up Besides get dissed on nigga, and pistol-whipped up Tied up, mouth taped up, layed out, and hit up Leave you in pray, gotta give cent you cent a napkin to wipe that shit up After the fact, holdin in time, shit up for lit up High drilly and shit yeah nigga you know the mix-up We that squad for real, Jersey Mob for real It be kill or be killed, so we drawin that steel I'm lovin the rush, Essex county doublin us, fuckin with us (yeah, yeah, yeah) We ownin enough, them rollers is bust [Chorus - Akwylah] x 2 (Murder - repeated in background of chorus) Murder made easy for dummies Before you pull the trigger Hit his pockets, take all his money First you gotta be smart Check his race and his bag To see if he's strapped And hit him once in the face And that's that [Trife - Verse 3] Well where you at then?
food, blogging, music cd production, wordssong lyrics 2pac i'm losin it r u still down? (remember me)
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