Lyrics:
a brook or four
Your momma wouldn't look at yall,
Go from the Panama canal, Alabama gal
Got me laid up, with my nuts like kapow!
B.O.B boys fast
a man
When I met Ann, I soked her pans
We ended up freakin' by garbage can
The next young freak I met was Red
I took her to the house and she gave me
a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, UHHHHH!
Is there a heaven 4 a gangsta, gangsta, gangsta, UHHHHH!
Is there a heaven 4 a gangsta
Grew up in the ghetto, raised by
freakin' by a garbage can
The next young freak, I met was Red
I took her to my house and she gave me head
She like blowin' dicks, is all she said
your still my man so
Get on the mic and do the best ya can
Oh yes, yes y'all, yes y'all, and ya don't stop
Oh yes, yes y'all, yes y'all, and ya
here and pop off real quick
Yo, I gotta get that guap by any means
You know what I'm sayin', son?
Growin' up in Brooklyn, shit
I thought that
colonies,
Shout 'em, scout 'em, Tell all about 'em,
One by one till we've given a day to ev'ry state in the U.S.A.
Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Arkansas,
on
The big screen then hit every trap and traveled on
Past, present to Texas to Alabama strong
(I'm tha King)
Down in Miami, up to Louisiana homes
From
disillusioned by weed
I breed thug muthaf***as even worse than me
When I bleed, my enemies best to flee quickly, on me
My army, n****z decieve swiftly
Look
on the bass
From Alabama by way of
Los Angeles, Californa: Larry Larsson, yeah
Wanna apologize to Larry
I'm sorry you missed the Bulls
Socks, that's life yeah
The boys in the crew are only waiting for you
Well you been to Alabama, girl 'n Georgia too
'N all the boys in the crew is bein' good to you
I know
The boys in the crew are only waiting for you
Well you been to Alabama, girl 'n Georgia too
'N all the boys in the crew is bein' good to you
I know
can't ride, baby)
So I kicked that bitch to the curb
You best to believe (uh)
You ain't got no trick up your sleeve
That can get what you need
on
The big screen, then hit every trap and traveled on
Past, present to Texas to Alabama strong
Down in Miami, up to Louisiana homes,
From the Carolinas,
Texas fiddle by far
Call me old-fashioned, back in the day, I like country music that way
Corn maze building in and out of season, forts and hideouts in
to flex yeah
We cannot compare I'm with the best yeah
We cannot compare em' with the rest yeah
None of y'all can reach us
I be making music with
Tell me why they're playing
Speakers Goin' Hammer
When my son in Alabama
Playin' ball? Please stop this
No I don't make billboard music
When I write I'm
and strife
From a Buick to a Beamer, ambitions of a dreamer
Motivated by Mob Figgaz and Andre Nickatina
I'm gettin' paper while you're in the shade drinkin
Well I quit my job down at the car wash
Left my mother a goodbye note
By sundown I left Kingston with my guitar under my coat
Hitchhiked all
John Cena can't even see me dressed in military
When I'm dropping bars, you can know that they're the freshest
Barz is their best song, yeah we've heard
ugh)
Fuckin' with them hoes, you gon' get set up (ayy)
We got fifty pipes (ayy), we brought out the best ones (ayy, gang)
It's pigs in your farm
the tune of the Audio Two
Milk was chillin as I chilled in the back room
Listen to snaps, cuts by Scoob and Scrap
Union Square, to tear up the KRS tracks
learned to make music
All my pain just went away
My whole attitude changed I
Started having good
Days I tried to live right by
Treating people with respect
the manner of Coltrane's "Alabama"
Niggaz wanna blaze a hammer
"Real girls get down on the flo'" like David Banner when I handle my shit
I go banana clips
Discuss these by music the best of alabama album alabama Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In