Young Buck

Young Buck - Money Made Me Crazy songtekst

Je score:








Yes

Outlawz, C-Bo, Ca$hville Records niggas

Yeah





Homie don't make me grip this shotty

And rip your body

I've been feelin' like a villan

I can teach you the game like Mr. Miyagi

Wax on, wax off got me sippin' the Saki

We keep one hundred, no hidden agendas

Do this for political prisoners, doin' they sentences

They locked my cousin Bo up for murder on wax

Now they tryin' to indict me sayin' my lyrics is crack

Be the one who pick the pepper for one last round

Alot of rappers fell down

We steadily climb

Speakin' of this, you should close your eyes

Visualize

If another one of us fall, another soldier 'gon ride

Outlawz don't die, its way deeper than the flesh

Just feel it in your bones, its grippin' to your chest

Its that ghetto gospel

With a mobste'rs roster

Yo Buck, don't worry about shit homie, we got you





Its that ghetto gospel street shit

Ya don't want no beef bitch

Ca$hville

Get your cap peeled

This is where we creep shit

We all hustlin' around here

We all grindin' around here

322 better be comin' down around here





My Tommy my homie my hood is the ghetto

Yeah i'm holdin' it down cause see, i'm good with that metal

My stash open

I'm hopin'

That they tempt me to poke him

Start locin'

With this 40 cal in my hand that i'm jokin'

Last man standin', death he 'gon meet him with his eyes open

After E.D. hit him, you don't believe them dimes smokin'?





This thug life forever so get it clicked up

Vice Lords, Dees up them snipers get your picks up

Ride on 'em

And if he snitchin' open fire on him

Pick him out the game cause Raymond retired homie

Give him a little protein

Flip him over and feed him some O like he a dope fiend

And i'm a killa, a black gorilla, a part Panther

Frontline of the Crips so yeah i'm part bastard

I dare a nigga to sweat me boy, I part caskets

Make ya hood be duckin' plastic





Its that ghetto gospel street shit

Ya don't want no beef bitch

Ca$hville

Get your cap peeled

This is where we creep shit

We all hustlin' around here

We all grindin' around here

322 better be comin' down around here





I'm heavily focused my mind on cash

Tryin' to make it out the streets how much longer can I last?

I got connections in the game I can't speak on

And high powered niggas with bandanas wanting me gone

And shit crumbling

Our shit finally bubbling

They think we owe something I can't see me even fuckin' with 'em

I made a dime in this game and I ain't even get my dick wet

I ain't sittin' on no tickets

But I bomb off respect

I didn't want credit, now I don't even use it

Could've been rich off dope, but I rather give hope to music

Shit ain't crazy, but hip hop ain't dead

Now country niggas gettin' bread

This is an amazing movement they know its a wrap

Buck, Bo, The Lawz, 615 back to back

This is an amazing movement they know its a wrap

Buck, Bo, The Lawz, 615 scrap for scrap





Thug niggas don't die

We only multiply

Thug niggas don't die

We only multiply

Thug niggas don't die

We only multiply

Thug niggas don't die

Put your fingers in the sky





Yeah whats up niggas?

Yeah Outlawz, C-Bo, 615 we got this rap shit bitches

So holla nigga

And before I say anything else, we got money to nigga

So what it is?

Yeah

Roll something up nigga

C-Bo

ha ha

I see you nigga

Yeah

The streets know what it is alright?

So anyone that talk to much

615 ha ha

Oh man

Damn

I know they see what we doin'

Yeah









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