Lone Star Ridaz

Lone Star Ridaz - All My NGGZ songtekst

Je score:

(feat. Max Minelli, Merciless, Russell Lee, SPM)



[Chorus]

[Russell Lee]

All my niggz, get yo hustle on (get yo hustle on)

And you punk police, needa leave us alone (needa leave us alone)

See, I don't give a fuck, and I don't play no games (and I don't play no games)

Cuz all my niggz, they 'bout havin' thangs (they 'bout havin' thangs)



[SPM]

Nasty hoes, and goofy niggas

Everybody tryin' they best to get wit us

Ruthless friends, and a crazy family

Niggas try to sue me for assault and battery

Crooked judges and expensive lawyers, I'm surrounded

by muthafuckin' news reporters

Cocaine snorters and drug importers

If I leave the city, I break my court orders

Was a kick door burglar, and teenage murderer

My house be filled up with dope fiends' furniture

Mathematical, attack like animal

In my new whip, bangin' Barry Manilo

Totally radical, my flow is magical

She don't suck dick, then we ain't compatible

Quick to shoot, foo, then go to his funeral

Sippin' pharmaceutical, I feel so beautiful



[Chorus]



[Merciless]

You mi vida be closed captioned (uh-huh)

Been runnin' wild (yeah)

Addicted to them streets, my criminal lifestyle

A juvenile delinquent got no fuckin' manners

Smokin' wee 'till my eyes bleed (gettin' drunk and crashin')

I swear my family tree, got roots that be rotten

If you dare to step on my block proceed with caution (uh-huh)

You see we all loc.s (yeah) clicked up we all folks

Slangin' stolen merchandise crank shrm. and coke

Quick to blast shit I catch as good as skank nothing

With the big black whip they at the po po service

No second chance, when you dance with death

As your body gets cold with hot slugs in your chest

Merciless, no remorse, no pity,

See I come from a city where attitudes be shitty

And nothin worse in this world, than a vato that's broke (uh-huh)

Mad at the world and got nothing to smoke



[Chorus]



[Max Minelli]

Maan with so much drama poppin' on my sets

It's kinda hard bein' that nigga M-A-X, but I

somehow still run my shit so proper

You can spin this 'till your fingers turn the color or copper

Keep a soviet chopper, layin' across my dresser

The outlaw ain't crackin' under police pressure

So, I'm wit whatever that's gon' keep my shit flippin'

Me and Hap. thug together like Gore and Bill Clinton

From the streets gettin' smoked out and syrup on sippin'

Cookin' more hoe chickens than Popeye's kitchen

My old lady bitchin' and for 17 minutes

I'm in the muthafuckin' game, y'all niggas still in the scrimmage

That boy young Minelli keep a hustlers image

Nice piece and chain, hundred fifty dollar tenis

With drag and strings, pants saggin' man

Cuz them niggas on my block 'bout havin' thangs



[Chorus]
Vind dit lied op:
bol.com
amazon.com

Copyrights:

Auteur: ?

Componist: ?

Publisher: ?

Details:

Taal: Engels

Deel je mening

Dit formulier wordt beschermd door reCAPTCHA en de Google Privacy Policy en Servicevoorwaarden zijn daarbij van toepassing.

0 Reacties gevonden