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Search results for 'open up the microphone by ward 21' Page #6
Yee yee! We've found 985 lyrics and 116 artists matching open up the microphone by ward 21.
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even up my sleeve A million albums sold and it?s hard to believe Well it?s true homeboy, it?s not a lie I used to sell tapes on sunnyside I used
in[02:00.38]When Gutenberg meets Google age[02:02.64]Is staying OG a true sin[02:05.58]You know it's hard to be constantly pulled[02:08.21]By the age you live
happened overnight Not 21 it took a lot That's why I ride by myself Switching up my status but they not Feeling like i can't relate I had to figure out I
breathing Knows it's open season now But she's too proud to plead with them Akin asks them to leave That they even came is hard to believe Squares up to her
background) From the motherfucking (?) On to the motherfucking Beats By The motherfucking Pound It's the realist Nigga I walk with a dirty gun with
with the pavement I seen a Bird get its Beak Busted by a Brick The same kid that did it end up jumping off a cliff At first I wanted to ask him why he
a secret[00:48.21]Michael Jackson with the tools, make him beat it[00:50.14]I told you rappers was once before, you niggas cannot keep up[00:52.56]They had feelings about me
rollin by, they're rollin by Ya gots to duck ya head they're rollin by, they're rollin by [Dred Scott] To the beat y'all duck it On the microphone gots
(Hook) Mark 19, I suit up and clap quick Mark 20, I suit up and clap quick Mark 21, I suit up and clap quick Mark 22, My Mark Suits will attack you Mark
Like Charles Barkley Jersey in the rafter Johnny Moore James Silas Go Spurs Go Sweeping dustin' Is the bank open Tim Duncan 21 Going savage May 21 TD CD
Song Ttile: MLK Lyrics By: Brian Belfast Ward, Najahsi, steve e ross Music By: Brian Belfast Ward Intro: There's a little song That
Gather round Fresh meat's in Fill up your cup as we open up This unusual specimen Selling off Prime cuts Every conceivable specialty From head
the city with the G-block stainers And we got adopted by some fifth ward strangers You know what it means when I twist these fingers Me and you been
the city with the G-block stainers And we got adopted by some fifth ward strangers You know what it means when I twist these fingers Me and you been
One more try We have too far to stop, now Yeah, Dilla One more try It is all that we have now Two DJ's, one microphone We freestyle, we write
duckin' dodgin' the police penetetionary and daisy protected by soldiers live my life smokin' the ghetto bottles are broken and cast popped open nobody
duckin' dodgin' the police penetetionary and daisy protected by soldiers live my life smokin' the ghetto bottles are broken and cast popped open nobody
in the rap game was about 17 ct 21, I met Chill Brothers big up to Johnny King Big up Mike Diamonds and the brothers Rocking up studio hours just
by I'm tired of 21st century life Close the door and open up my phone Order take-out, eat it on my own Sit there and medicate my loneliness By
be explained And it's all in the brain We lay on a velvet rug by the open fire She blew air on my eyelids I cried "What's it all about?" As she
divasadero More dinero that’s primero I think I Look better when my fuckin pockets up Age 21 I knew music would be the option up Still turning in exams to keep
begin to bomb in a calm manner, jaws drop and shatter gall bladders burst, punks jump up and get their egos punched by a far fatter verse and you can
a book to read I can make money, open up a thrift store I can make a livin' off a magazine I can design an engine Sixty-four miles to a gallon of gasoline
hamburger Till they bury me black, wrapped up in street camo I rock the microphone strapped off with street ammo [Chorus: Mac] I got the game in my
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