Lyrics:
evidence for
If these things are what you mean by God
Then I believe in God but I
Don't believe in a personal
God to whom I look for comfort or for a
Natural
peeping out the few coming outta the back do'
Hang, on the darkside ride,
Pick up your tec and let fly, why?
I, die, by all ah my, unremorsefullest times
At your house
Don't you see
You invited me
Let's get back to the beat
Yeah, let's go
Cherry pie
Give it to me
Black coffee
Give it to me
David Lynch
Give
[Chorus: Brotha Lynch Hung]
That motherfucker kept sniffin for goods
Put the plastic in his mouth the back of his neck left
And you don't know nuthin
game, nigga just need to bring back some doe
Slow me, uh, productions
[Verse 2: Brotha Lynch Hung]
Who's the hoe? A bitch named {silence} was the trick
breath, by the time I flip to the next flow
This sho' is real, this is the deal, guns I'm runnin
Gotta make it out of town to flip my {shit} and keep it
niggas money's gettin' low
But could you come back though, set up shop, and get the fat glow?
Tired of y'all, mostly inspired by y'all
So what the deal
swallows are not migratory.
GUARD #2: Oh, yeah...
GUARD #1: So they couldn't bring a coconut back anyway...
[clop clop]
GUARD #2: Wait a minute --
(Can't switch no sides)
(Let's bring more vibes)
(Can't waste no time)
(Is the only time that you down to ride yeah)
(Girl my bad) (Get in my bag)
been so damn good
(Said this rap game's been good to me)
Hard times
(But I don't know how long that's gonna be, yeah)
I hope I don't go back
fucking with
(I'm a motherfucking Cash Money Millionaire)
I got 25 dollars on my dresser and if I
Give it to my ho she gon' bring back mo'
Not
fucking with
(I'm a motherfucking Cash Money Millionaire)
I got 25 dollars on my dresser and if I
Give it to my ho she gon' bring back mo'
Not
leaking I got that sickness disease
I'mma bring it back,I hit em with something ripping they guts up
Get em and cut em with the scissors I’m fucked up
bring back mo'
Not a minute go she ain't gettin that loot
And if you ain't got no money
She ain't gettin at you
I like em sexy high yellow if
You fit in
pain
I can get you John Doe by a no name
Catch him at the Chinese store
Pulled two sticks on him, we eatin' Lo Mein
Nah nigga, Smack can't hear
(hair)
the H-A double M's
These bars I'm spittin' are so good y'all mistake me for Eminem
O-line's scored on all the time, it's 'cause I'm not in it
Y'all need
I honor the code
And never am I not in the zone
Fuck that
I’ma do my thing
Bring it back
Boomerang
You should hang it up, Hussein
Your whole crew is
D-D-Don't know where I'm going
Need the Good Lord almighty to guide me
Just pulled up to T.G.I. Friday's
Dawg it's not even Friday
Swerving going
feel like time passing me by slower than a slug
While this feeling inside of my body seep in like a
Will you hug me, rub me on the back like a child?
Once there was time
Just drinking country wine
We'd all sit up on the back porch
With a good ole harp of mine
Won't you bring it on back
Bring
(South Baton Rouge)
The candy lady out of business 'cause they take her goods
Play with me it's guaranteed, ooh, I'ma lay you down
Gotta watch my back
(South Baton Rouge)
The candy lady out of business 'cause they take her goods
Play with me it's guaranteed, ooh, I'ma lay you down
Gotta watch my back
it's better like that
I know we been fallin' off-track
Bring it right back
Let's just let the time roll past
We don't gotta take it too fast
Bring
Sent me to deathrow,
Watchin' the time by fly past
But Rip'll be sittin' mindless never spineless, in silence
Hoping I die fast, but chill,
Never do,
_(cropped).jpg/226px-Claire_Lynch_(30361323857)_(cropped).jpg "Claire Lynch")
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