Lyrics:
costs me nothing
Hoes like Krispy Kreme
They come by the dozen
Put a buck into her
They know I'm buzzing
Feeling like money
I'm stacking a hundred
This
don't be feelin' it
Racism still alive, they just be concealin' it
But I know they don't want me in the damn club
They even make me show ID to get
Chest hairs
I don't need no chemical blow to pull no hoe, no
All I need is chemical bank to pay her up
Is it real son, lemme know it's real son
rapper
Gassing these fairies, dare I say that he carry matches?
Hey, you think it's a God damn joke, don't you?
Well, let me tell you something boy
to the Armageddon, Lord
Know that I won't fly by that lesson
You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
And I'm not stressing it softly
Get 'em up off me,
to the Armageddon, Lord
Know that I won't fly by that lesson
You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
And I'm not stressing it softly
Get 'em up off me,
to the Armageddon, Lord
Know that I won't fly by that lesson
You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
And I'm not stressing it softly
Get 'em up off me,
coming
On the way to fulfill my potential
Let's end all the coddling, stop being gentle
And keep it a buck that I'm never gone settle for shit
Can I see
and smoke
I came a long way, but still I got so far to go
Dear mama, don't worry, I'mma watch for snakes
Tell Setchu that I love her, but it's hard today
up in her panties (Yeah, yeah)
I do the Percocets, don't fuck with Xannies (Yeah, yeah)
But kids don't do drugs, it will fuck up your sanity (Yeah,
G'd up, D-P-G-see'd up, O-G-see'd up original gun clappin'
No captains, no officials,
Nuthin' but niggas and pistols
Don't cock just pop, let it go
smart, I'm impressed by your remarks
Just remember, don't ever let them tell you who you are
But Ashli got something on her mind
She's Little Miss Boy
was massagin' my booty
Then dove in my thighs and start touchin' my nutsack
Fuck yeah!
Then I put a little bitty sway in my hips to let her know I
thing as best
Ruthlessly being you is the coolest thing you can do
Stick to it
Don't stress
What I do is let thoughts tie into instrumental loops like
to the bucks with you
Then count it up with you
I'll say it right to your face
I ain't got time for the games
Just by the look in your face
I'm trynna fuck in
can't believe that the same girl you let go
Could change so in this little while
But don't she look great in a new dress I bought her
And don't she look
Half of the time i don’t even wanna talk allá know is motherfuck da law
Now I just think to myself lord I swear I felt hell
Know I need no one else can’t
rhymes
My God know
I'm a real Don Dada
Let me teach behind ya
Shorty looking fine
Yeah that's my Lady
And I want her
Aye Say
And who that
You miss your
to the Armageddon, Lord
Know that I won't fly by that lesson
You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
And I'm not stressing it softly
Get 'em up off me,
up a mic know I gotta be different
I'm digging they grave, put my opps in a swisher
Cop me a tommy I fuck with Hilfiger, voice got her wet I ain't even
you cry for your nigga, baby?
Ayy (ayy), baby girl, what you know, what you know 'bout that?
What you know 'bout that? You don't know nothin' (uh-uh)
[Chorus: Nate Dogg]
Yesterday in West L.A
A sexy thing strayed on way
She tried to take me by the hair
She tried to make me her lover pair
Let em know
up-a
You don't need no coffee, let me, fill your cup-a
Perk, perk, perk, perk you up-a
You don't need no coffee, let me, fill your cup
I'm a,
don't claim to speak perfect Spanish
But I do know a few lines (a few lines)
This female's slicker than your average
And I gotta make her mine
So,
Discuss these dont let her know instrumental by buck owens 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