Young Bleed

Young Bleed - The Last Outlaw songtekst

Je score:





`Come on out with your hands high!

`Hahahaha, with your hands high! 

Hahhaha huh I better reason with him`



Why don`t you ride to the rhythm of a nigga don`t give a fuck about ya`

Won`t even talk about ya`, ho

You ain`t know? I`m just a hustler, in spite of myself

Ridin` all by myself, without no one else

Looky here

On my Doc Holidays, boy I piss upon your grave

And wipe the smile away

Nigga, don`t even try

Fistful of dollars, we gon` ride

Ya hear me, nigga?

See I ain`t got that many friends, white tombstone

[???] Me and Rudy go to war with - anybody



From the niggas, to the killas

They callin` me a bad man ridin` `cross the desert plains

And Mama still can`t explain without the `caine

It`s raw, boy

Cowboys hear the `Yippie-yi-yay!`

Murder dancin` where the Indians play

Watch what you say

Durin` the spiritual ritual huntified ceremony

Clickin` swines[?] that`ll get you on a Shetland pony

Memoirs of a madman - Killer Carl Cox and Bill Watts

`Couldn`t rassle nappy niggas with a lasso

Heated like Tabasco, it`s on

Nigga quick on the draw

And he get to bustin` on them bitches like the Last Outlaw

Uh, nigga what!



`Hahha...

Cowboy I`m gonna [???] you are a testly li`l cuss(whistling)`



Niggas and bitches call me Nino Corleone, I got a license to kill

But ain`t no playa hatin` in me, I got love for the real

So if you see me with my [guv?], just move and step aside

Hit me up and let a nigga just ride

South Side

Got your mouth wide, buckin` for nothin`

Now if you`re `bout it, be `bout it `bout it, and without no discussion

Now if you`re talkin`, keep talkin




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