Lyrics:
Evidence (What's Up?) What's that in your hand, is it a guidance missile?
(Yes it is) Call up ya man Rokka tell 'em it's time to blow da spot up
With
that the fakes wouldn't last
You were jockin' that bullshit, now you look like an ass
Get gassed in your garage of sickness
As I bring a little swing
Say what you want to say
But, motherfucker, I'm still Flosja, dude
Fake all
Fucking with the boy, get your face cut
Then I ride by with your bitch, she
Go back to Jerz and smoke with Diezel Don
Huh, pick up a bag from my block, two-oh's the number
Who can get swift with the microphone mist
Plus
YO, is in this to win this
A brand new LP SO MIND YOUR BUSINESS
No jokin, I'm gettin paid fully
You want to buy the cassette, stop by Sam Goody
normally, but strange ringed like that in black.
It doesn't get much better, your voice can get just ripped up shouting in vain,
Maybe someone hears what
YO, is in this to win this
A brand new LP SO MIND YOUR BUSINESS
No jokin, I'm gettin paid fully
You want to buy the cassette, stop by Sam Goody
Rap attacks leave cats asthmatic
D20 lines deal fantastic damage
Fast raps man I has to have it
You gnats get blasted by craptastic rap shit
and the prime example of what happens
When the power of the rhyme falls into the wrong hands, and
Makes you want to get up and start dancing
Even if it is
I'm riding up uptown (Woo)
I'm a motherfuckin' monster (Woo)
One hand on the wheel, one hand on my dick
I'm a motherfucking monster (Woo)
You riding
the power of the rhyme falls into the wrong hands, and
Makes you want to get up and start dancing
Even if it is Charles Manson who just happens, to be
are just too extra
Mamma said hand-me-downs are special
Key-ignition gotta love the vessel
Pull up and they never see me
But the heads go up for
get no streeter, nigga
I'm nice wit the hands but I'm better wit the heater
Old school style, stash haze in my sock
I'll bust at you and turn your
Hands like Sonny Liston, get fly permission
Hold the fuck up, I'll unfasten your wig, bad luck
I humiliate, separate the English from the Dutch
It's
Hands like Sonny Liston, get fly permission
Hold the fuck up, I'll unfasten your wig, bad luck
I humiliate, separate the English from the Dutch
It's
spiritual essence
And he goes by the name of, uh
Hood
Check your rhyme, punk that ass or get got, F it (shit)
I lick buckshots, Hood, madman, I rip up
Just saw your face again and remembered our good times
The time I first held your hand as we heard the wind chimes
The girl that I loved is now non
somewhere/
i get emotional on instrumental/yea/ thats my forte/ i opened up my soul and put it on a LP/ ha/
i use this time for reflection/ I ask the Lord
hand
So put your head up and you better get up to make some steps
Sometimes it might be rough but i promise it's gonna be alright
I don't want to leave
Show up late, cause your girl came early
By all means, get high on us
Supply the dream, my tribe's ready to bust
Tear the seams, we too fat, way up
Leave
yo, yo
He picks me up and sit me on the seat
And then he grabbed the phone and
Get to dialin' the police
I wanna run but I can't walk yet
Can't grapple
Then where's your power? Tell me where your power goes
Somebody does your dirty work for you
Throw up your hands like a man so I can floor you
And oh,
and a version that I wake up for
Saying that you hate me that's regular
Pay me coz I'm worty it bro
Try me and we gone run up to your ass lol nigga
I got niggas
the best version this time around...
Wake up, boy! You're falling behind! Wake up, now!
Don't roll your eyes at me, boy! Catch up!
cgain with this
Discuss these get your hands up non lp version by fergie 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