Search results for 'gimme back my man by betty wright' Page #104

Lost Hawks

Andre Nickatina

The Gift [Original]

there just like a picture without the pose
Yes, y'all in the symphony call
Man, them hoes'll be talkin' bout my rise and fall

How I did 'em all
And was I

no gimmicks triple black ratchet
Got a ho from somalia my
Niggas tear the lobby up
Face wrapped in turban hop
Back in the suburban
I'm from queens

not for ladies
It's incase I get knocked by the old bailey
'Cause jail? one-on-one street? gun-to-gun
Little niggers is tiresome but
Back on this music,

expected
I'm not so respected
Cause' it comes up to me
But no one even tries to see
They look me so below
With me surrounded by my foes
I may be a fool, but

And my wrist on beam
I might have to make a scene
Yah
I have not got in a Rolls Royce
I pray to God at the gun points
Saying gimme my shot, I’ma run courts

as a weapon
On the other line i talk to addiction
Crying out for help no! busy to listen
Diggin’ up my own grave from the damn past
Gimme some fire
Imma smoke

gimme a second?
Send the sept baby cheques
By the illions, thank ya
Gotta ball wit' my chick
Least Imma make her mine
Flashy, she already fine
Dappa, ya

silk cotton
Join me on this journey
As I travel to my promise
It's much better
Rappin' my story and staying honest
Regardless of the labels they gimme

you back baby gimme a minute
Best belief my nigga better believe
That waking up to the green ain't gonna water your seeds
But it'll make it, without

so potent
You Seemed to help me pick up the pieces,
Never puzzled by my demons
I was so open to
Making you the one I believed in
More than friends fam

What Cha Like

Mac Dre

The Musical Life of Mac Dre, Vol. 3: The Young Black Brotha Years 1996-1998

come
Let the track ride, gimme the mic and I'll run
Smooth with the groove like a saxophone
My backs is on, and man, caps is blown
Straight off

a chance
I could belong - be a hot commodity
Back up
Slacker had a lotta options
Couldn't walk but I sure did a lotta talkin'
Now I'm locked in
Rhythm in my

to escape
Bitch I’m Houdini we shooting a tape
And that shit directed by the Michael Bay
Time stop time stop
I got too much on my mind
I got too many emotions

on a Mac (Woah)
That's straight facts, y'all sore in the ass
Did you get fucked by Shaq? (My bad)
I drop bombs on the track (On the track)
Like George W. in

without putting in 

One man band 
cin't no representation
Cooking in the basement till I rock the whole nation
Diamonds in my stock
MF whoever hating

over my health
I was always wrong in situations, it was never fair
She don't believe in me
Man, I ain't did a thing
I cocked it back, I let it bang
How

wake up
Stay in my body just wanna recieve
Cause you play your part and you stay by my heart
Give relaxation and relief
I wanna know the man who gave

on stage 

Or gun to my face 

Whether
You be amazed 
Or disgusted by this fake weather 

The government don't give af 
We gotta stick together 

I ain't

five years in man they right
The years seem long but the days fly by
Childhood fears tripped into the light
See I always felt alone & I wondered why

Was

Mind on paper making
My time spent on vacating...
Bitches gimme love
So that's pussy accumulating
Lames be faking
Smiling like Clay Aiken
But I know they

Drunk (Go)
(Faded)
Im Drunk (Go)
(Faded)
Im Drunk (Go)
(I been)


Bitch gimme a break
(Break)
You been a bitch 
(Bitch)
I can tell by yo face
Look for

that ya'd do for me
So I guess ya went and raised a fool of me
But momma made me a man
On my own two feet, how to stand
You could never understand how

ever stopping this unless I get a mille
Put my momma in a mansion where all of the hills be
Never paid my taxes but the weed man bill me

She just heard

I'm covered in thanks and
I'm shooting these aint blanks man
I'm still blanking
Through depression and overthinking
Cuz I can't go back
That a Kagol