Lyrics:
sons grinnin
Mums gotta skits out, when she sees her new yard n kitchen
The C needs coachin
Put your'e album out, same day as us and we'll see who's
you do me
I love to go on about the funk, matter of fact
I'd love to be another funk front runner
But first we gotta deal with the fronters
So I can't
Buckingham
Bucking ham
Prince George Stand up
Huh
Top down in my tiger tank yea I'm riding dirty
I roll loud in no mans land I go at least 30
It's
hate ou c'ki el cariño
Dit moi ou c'ke le love est passé
On cris injustice y nous on même pas écouter
Combien d'hermano on devra enterré
Avant que les
My head be pink, but that shaft be white
Fucked your girl by sending her an e-vite
Pull out my cock and jizz in that bitch
It hurts to pee and my
One more time for y'all, y-y-yeah, huh
If you didn't know you know now, OutKast, Stankonia
We shittin' on e'rybody talkin' that bullshit
Now
rocking
This is for the radio Mr. D.J
Me and the heavy rotation all damn day
Mechanical boys is what the way to make a living
Looking for love so turn it
Good evening, and welcome to eazy's playhouse
You stupid muthafucka
Now that you got the album
What the fuck are you gonna do with it
Bitch
drive em
Home theaters, can't Best Buy 'em
These niggas that I roll with
Don't let a single thing get by 'em
King pins and them drug lords
Chi-town,
notice ya friends
All pretend like its love
But tonight they've chosen revenge
My team be making moves together
50 something albums that should prove who
Chauffeured by the latest and greatest strand or brand of pessimism
This album’s dedicated to a basement fulla addicts
It’s too hot up in the kitchen
Had
(I gotta get my mind right, we gon')
(Traction)
(I don't love lil' shawty, just a distraction)
(Makin' moves, gonna move right past 'em, right past
the whip up like E.B. White
Keep it tight, clean, like light's off
Hopped on a track that was made by JB
If your name is Judah then you have the beats
I'm
helping out, I did a lot of that
I showed a lot of love, nobody showed it back, so I bought a lot of guns, love me or love this mack
I sold a lot of drugs
Droppin' jams that slammed on every radio program
And bam, got damn, look where I am
The first album, long live the kane, it sold
About umm aww fukkit it
basketball drills
Run up on me? Swear to
God shit gon' get real
Looking like a construction crew
With these big drills
I'm just balling in Ypsi
Like I'm George
like a dead body coming for its murderer
Shit, you seen Chino lately? You gotta see him
What you get to make an album, I get in one day's per diem
Go
rapper about to blow
But his album came, and it was not good
I think it went lead or double copper-wood
So the silly little fans, they were misled
By
and I'll do the hop
Cough up a lougie shake break and boogie
Cause I got a home girl that's giving out nougies
Mr George Bush was on my floor
Cracked
the new owner of these fuckin streets
Go by da name of Plies have you heard of me?
[Verse 1:]
Kept it muthafuckin gutta from day one
Right now homie
Okay, ha! So we pop bottles one, bottle two
Bottle three me and D chilling in the VIP
With CC, Kol B and Richie
Getting drunk off of Dop-E
They
'boutta hit this muhfuckin' album
(Oh oh-Oh, yeah yeah yeah yeah, whoa)
Yeah-Yeah-Yeah-Yeah
I done seen a lot of things, yeah yeah
Nowadays, sit
[Dr. Dre]
Hey, hey, Snoop, what up? This your nigga, Dre
Hey, man, I was thinkin' I ain't said shit on your whole motherfuckin' album
So check it
the boys, they knew her all by name
Now he's a sport and she's a sport
and all the world, they love a sport
And if you got the urge, we got the time
Layin'
Discuss these by e love album george benson 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