Lyrics:
the trunk, trunk!
In the night we go bump, bump!
Don't fuck with The Rydas then
We dump, dump, dump, dump!
Blakka Blakka, showstoppa
I know y'all running out
you out, cuz seem they only ask for rain when they be busy in a drought
See that's not what i'm about
:39
We can fight, inside a ring, but first i
is
Her specialty, after all hands come up
One by one "Oh my god, Rihmeek, "
Nicki groans exaggeratedly, invoking Meek's
Middle name for effect "Every
(chorus until song ends)
(master p chorus x4)
(fiend talking)
Sittin here tryin to take the pain away, see this one here
This for all my ghetto fiends out
(chorus until song ends)
(master p chorus x4)
(fiend talking)
Sittin here tryin to take the pain away, see this one here
This for all my ghetto fiends out
Ninja 'bout to kick a little story 'bout miranda
I was out dopping by the purple turtle hanging wif some homies
Skopped one too many dops, damn I need
to love
Oh, now I'm getting strong enough
You helped me chip my way out and open myself up
And for the snow that comes with winter
For the growth
Snatched lucid too high
And sedated
Now we're on a new movement
We're toting glocks in the matrix
I just count my chips
And take my time
Out in
nothin' right
And still I sit and lie awake all night
Oh, all of the DJ's surely have taken a lesson
Try talkin' trash and I'll come with my Smith
your chariot is carrying children who going blind
And you going to get their sight back, when all they see is night black
Believe in everything that
Never
You ain't never had a friend like me
Believe that
'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me
See at night, I watch the sky
I take
to figure it out
I had to figure it out
I had to figure it out
I had to figure it out yea
How to get chips in a drought
Then come back and flip that amount
I
to know if you run the streets
Come in peace or leave in pieces
Even Jesus was killed by the polices
They crucified him now they inject us with juice
Bop
Style these man in my ten dollar fit
Rude boy style with the short money drip
I see you by the speaker wth yuh hands on your hip
Don't jump, just me
from the AM to the PM
Tell a buff ting slide in the DMs
I want a private jet, fuck a BM
And my bros got the chip like CM
I pulled up, stepped out
Fresh
greddy
Hoe, get up out my pockets
You worried bout my Profits homie look what you deposit
I don't dig her energy that dip all on her chip
Yeah we jus
Yo beanie mac rap guerrilla
I'm out for the skrilla
Face it ain't no replacement for this killa
Keep your hands where I can see em
Don't make me
Yo I gotta be home by eight thirty or my moms'll kill me
She spasses out when I'm late, plus she says that I'm too young to date
So overprotective,
on the gang you niggas ain't shit
40. cal'll leave his body on the pavement
Please don't come around a nigga it get dangerous
Pistol packin', see him
like a pro, she comes out the clothes
[DJ Quik]
But, uh, she flips the dildos
Whether in the Pumps, Nikes or the steel toes
Dre, you can spot it in
sick I can't sleep at night, might swallow my tongue
Get all the gas deposits out the closet, let the water run
Get the flame thrower, lighter fluid,
peace with what it is, it's a dark night out
Off the bat know we raw, dawg
And when you see us in the streets, don't expect no peace
Flexing with the drip
Yeah, baby, I'm just out here trying to get this money
I mean it's hard, hustling late night
You know (late night)
Some of these suckas out there
[Mikah 9]
Non compos mentis and moon struck
come, pompous apprentice and succumb
To this relentless, yes, the sun
rises and sets yet you see none
Discuss these chips come out at night by c bo 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