Search results for 'gas shell'

estoy suave, more cash
Entra a mi cuenta y no se quiere soltar
Ya tengo mis amigos
No quiero ni uno mas
Logico
La Shell me pide gas
(Gas gas gas)
La Shell

like crackers
I'll make it for A that's bro
I'll make it for P as well
We still gotta keep it in the low
We bringing the gas like Shell
We bringing

boy like crackers

I'll make it for A that's bro
I'll make it for P as well
We still gotta keep it in the low
We bringing the gas like Shell

We

for the next pic
Say cheese, sticky green like the kid
Ice Nicholson, it shining
Steak dinner, fine dining
You fake, you lying
Gas Shell, quit whining

I'm on the corner serving gas no shell
Wet a nigga block 12 find no shells
I leave no evidence trace or trail
Even if we get caught we ain’t

Ride

Sir Mix-A-Lot

Chief Boot Knocka

1994

the gas she'll scoot
When ya dance, I'm on ya
When ya walk, I'm on ya
When ya moan, I'm on ya
I'm that +Nasty Dog+ and I tried to warn ya
To the 'tel,

The Latin One

10,000 Maniacs

Hope Chest: The Fredonia Recordings 1982-1983

1990

deaf still to the hoots 
Of breaking gas shells 
Dropping softly behind 
But limped on blood shod 
All went lame all went blind 
Gas quick boys

Katrina's Fair

10,000 Maniacs

Hope Chest: The Fredonia Recordings 1982-1983

1990

deaf still to the hoots 
Of breaking gas shells 
Dropping softly behind 
But limped on bloodshed 
All went lame all went blind 
Gas quick boys

I'm in the golden realm
Back then felt hopeless I was living in a hell
Lived inside a shell no gas I needed help
Now I move with class I rebelled

The music she plays is so heavy
Her foots on the gas
But she'll kick your ass
Baby wants to rock she wants it fast

I want a rock n roll lady
Dont give me no

Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of gas-shells dropping softly behind.

Gas! GAS! Quick, boys!—An ecstasy of fumbling
Fitting the clumsy helmets

we’ll be on though
Chicago bitch all the way straight from Milano
Born in Milano I was raised in Chicago
Got gas like shell, they bustin shells hella

cuori su un turbo s
Vuole il gas come la shell
Non ho mai preso un jet
Ho preso solo Hi-Tech
Questa droga è Givenchy
La vuoi addosso su di te
Non ho mai

the office

Doing 12s really came from hell
Thought we fail really thought we tell
Oh what's that you smell got the gas like shell
Loading up that super bowl

the fucking gas)
I said they call me shell I got sauce like soup (Got the sauce like soup)
You smoke boof
You sell boof (Selling all the boof)
All your

Wait, baby I'm on my way
Little fucked up, I'm drunk in the triple A
And I got gas like Shell
Baby got new Chanels
Rolling up might as well
What

fucking Well
These niggas they cotton
Pillow marshmallow
I'm too concrete
Bitch I'm to shell
We got the gas for the low
But the za for high
93 unleaded
My

Whoa whoa
Huh uh huh
Yea yea yea yea yea yea yea
Uh

Still saying bun b forgive me
Lord please pray for my enemies
Gas like shell or the bp
Still

Baby this a purpose fishtail
Premium gas, BP, Shell
Hoes got some nerve for laughing
"He-he" hell, the hate running through your blood in every cell

and pluck your eyes
And the water crush your Shell
And the natural gas will burn your ass
And blow you all to hell

Oh, the seas will not be silent
While

"You already know what it is Mane, it's-"

I'm out of my shell, bringing that gas, I hope that your shell ain't too hollow
Just stay to myself, and I

gas, smoke that gas nigga that's the shells
Rip the bitch
Rip the bitch
Rip the bitch
Rip the bitch
Rip the bitch
Rip the bitch
Rip the bitch
Rip

diamonds yea they choke 
Glaciers yea they crash the boat
Gilligan I'm afloat
Fuck on a bih that remote
She smoke that gas she'll choke 
Pop her a bean she

shell
Yeah yeah
Smoking on gas expensive weed
Rolling big blunts full of hashish
I'm in Paris vive la vie
Whole team balling like athletes 
How the fuck