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Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes
Тексты песен на английском, аккорды, табулатуры, гитара, Texts of songs, the song text, chords, notes » S » Shyne
Edge - текст песни



Edge


Uh uh, Uh, Uh


Ayo, mac 10s and fake friends


Lawyers little game homicide 25 with the fucking nigga face 'em


But I'm still trill, still holdin


Rollin gully until I'm froze, close in a box with a bomb in fluid


Veins pumpin ice


First some 15 keep that king pumping right


Hard white, cold cash


Hold fast, fold fast, through the city so gas


No ass


Straight head bitch, I'm one a from the feds


Fuck comma raps, same G and canna


All I got in this world is my fifth dick and nana


Gangsta mannerism lyrical vandalism


Niggaz be burnin up their gums until the fucking hammers hit 'em


Who need help?


Well until then I'ma take that mac off the shelf


and hold the fucking street hostage


Blowing smoke out my nostril


Every breath is a step to a non-time in death








I wanna know where to go


Need a place in my mind I can rest


Cause this time is running out for my flesh


Dried up, sittin' in a chair fried up








You know me; I don't need no introduction in this


Big gun, big dick, half of a meal on the wrist


Sittin in my continental thinkin' about potential connects


I live in all, just pencil the best


Parts of the live of a quintessential hustler


When I pull a slide back


Motherfuckers be hoppin' their faces don't get left open


You understand?


Shirt soaking, brain smoking left in the ocean floatin'


Shyne Po, dough, stack, y'all Rap niggaz is trash


I don't give a fuck how much records you sold


Tryin' to be me


Keep it real dog, you'll die to be me


You wanna know how it feel, don't you?


To have a murder charge, took gun to the American Music Awards


And live life against stars


Doing 170 screaming "FUCK THE WORLD" (gangsta get outta the car)














Where the fuck them niggaz at? We gonna handle this beef


Turn your mic off bitch; see me in the street


Fuck peace 'til I'm rest in the dried up flesh is finish


I don't know how to tell until I'm in the morgue


Dysfunctional, highly uncomfortable paranoid


Without the extra clip (bitch), try me I'll puncture you


Had niggaz waking up with wings in their backs, halos in their head like


"Ayo I'm dead"


Can a knight fucking princess Diana type


Vane wives, vane light, pen I write cold, hand of ice


They said too much for the motor mind to comprehend


Walk wit me, pause take a breath


Things ain't just the same for gangstas


Sleeping in diamond, it's fucking up the game for gangstas


While charges tryin to ring a gangsta


Through it all I maintain my gangsta



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