Partners-n-crime

Partners-n-crime - Down South lyrics

Your rating:

(feat. Tre-8)



[Chorus: x4]

Down South we play the game, we play it raw



[First Verse: Kangol Slim]

I'm strictly bout makin' my money

Strictly bout makin' my cheese

All these haters straight hatin' me

Cuz I'm on a paper chase for the collard greens

Monitor this, I handle my biz

Support me and my kids, I gotta get the dividends

Even if it mean committin' a sin, kickin' doors in

Muthafucka you a foe or friend?

Game is real, we playin' it raw

Down South, if you got it to see, we runnin' off in your house

Duct tapin' your arms, your legs, and your fuckin' mouth

When we get what we want, tellin' you to ride out

Never leavin' a trace

Sprinkle some ye round the place

Now you're known to the D.A.

That's a closed case

So don't fuck with them hounds

We lay it down

Ask a clown when we buck around

Muthafuckas better lay down

We play it raw



[Chorus x2]



[Second Verse: Tre-8]

I'm missin' a certified death wish

Nigga wanna step to this gettin' blows to the dome

And I cock the chrome, it's on, strong gone

Niggas don't last long, I got'z to get my blast on

With the black mask on

Got a tool for my getaway

Servin' with the AK got the double clip

Plus the hollow tips nigga make way

You'll get blazed today

And I'ma say what I gotta say

Niggas gotta play, the game how I play the game

Droppin' bombs on your town everytime mane

It ain't a tongue it's a mind thang

Funky little rhyme game

Where nobody go, nigga movin' too slow

I don't changed the whole time frame

Now it's rangin' and clangin' them bitches

We stained them bitches, lookin' stupid like hoes

Bringin' the pain to these hoes

With flows and blows of death

Makin' niggas sweat like hot sauce

Runnin' up my block bruh

Make me put my top down

Break you off proper

Pussy poppers over the World had better hide

Look into my eyes as I cock the nine

Niggas die when they try to see me

Nobody can beat me rappin' this fast and easy

The sequel, me runnin' with PNC, G, and we be raw

We be the coldest muthafuckas that you ever saw nigga we be raw



[Chorus x2]



[Third Verse: Misdemeanor]

We bes, the dopest muthafuckas that you ever saw

Spinnin' out of Lexus cars playin' the game raw

These niggas better recognize the real when caps get peeled

Me and my nigga Tre leavin' brains just spilled

That's on the real, you can get killed

If you want, hit your ass two times up in the chest with the pump

Throw your ass in the back of the flip-flop trunk

Ride wit'cha your lady I'll dump you off at the dump

When ya hurtin' for birth, til' the day you live the Earth

When you was on, that bitch should've worn a fuckin' skirt

Ol, sissy ass nigga I had to get wit'cha

Now your Mom and Dad sayin' they miss ya, had to give 'em a tissue



[Chorus x4]
Get this song at:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Author: ?

Composer: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Language: English

Share your thoughts

This form is protected by reCAPTCHA and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.

0 Comments found