Free download
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #694
Peak in subgenre #361
Author
Curt
Rights
fuck off...
Uploaded
April 22, 2004
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.0 MB • 128 kbps • 0:00
Lyrics
just...give it a rest,
we all know that I'm great...the beat killer...
knock-out-king...Muhammed Ali spitter...
don't make me have to call the coroner dunny...
when my florida bunnies...hit the border with money...stacked...
blacker the berry...sweeter the juice...
harder I squeeze...deeper I shoot...he's speakin the truth...
my whole dameanor to boost...any beemer or coupe...
just for a couple of beans and a suit...liquor got me leanin...
shoulda been reading the proof...
pulling bitches with ease its...Curtisey just...
beating the cooch...
listen for chickens screaming...
givin them seizures...the way I deliver the penis...
like pizzas and porn flicks...the boy's sick...
you would prolly think he's aenemic...
young frame...old mind...hard body...
in the trunk...no spare...all shottis...
yall niggas...all talk...not brolic...
guns stay grimey as me...not polished...
but the flow is...so piff...
and I know kids...wish...they could hold this...
-no bitch...Lorenzo solo kits...
ya chick head bobbin like a pogo stick...
you still don't know shit...
about the game that I'm living...flames that I'm spitting...
dames that I'm hitting...geting brain from Hilton...
and won't stop till my name is remembered...
for the way that I did it...so great for the business...
10 ki's of cocaine in a sentence...
at 36 bars...I made the percentage...
yall sweet like frosting...I make cake in a minute...
have ya chick getting scraped in a rented...
hittin it till she knock kneed...
listen...you not me...
so stop these claims that you brocky...
cause I keep toast...under apparel...
giving niggas heat stroke...like they fuckin the barrel...
ya bitch loves my style...indeed...
I just had to remind the peeps...
the gutta is back...to smother a track...
nothin you mufukkas attach...to me...
other than that...number thats tagged...
is enough of a match...
for the words...I dump on a pad...
loving the fact...I'm rugged and black..
tuckin a gat...
just in case you feeling froggy...
send shots to your face and your body...
*kiss , kiss* get 'em girl and I got'em...
train yard...the place that you're rotting...
you'll prolly never see me in pink...instead...
I'm with ya bitch...skeeting in pink...
have her drinking my meat juice...
cream dripping off each tooth...
go brush ya teeth in the sink boo...
but don't get comfy in the crib...
I only feed hoes...if they choking on the dick...
plus the week smoke...so potent in the six...
and the speed goes...don't throw up in the whip...
like my cum...bitch you better hold it in your lips...
I'm tryna told ya I'm the shit...
a nigga that keep toast...and underage chickens that deepthroat...
so raw on the mic...cats listen to me...
and feel what the inside of condoms is like...
doggy I'm nice...and what young thugs wanna be...
gully as fuck...with pump guns under seats...
piff author...shit talker...
leaving niggas pussy on the side...longer than Vince Carter...
yeah a nigga that big...you know I stack chips...
just look at my poker face...oh ya girls that bitch...lemme poke her face...
so many pounds...-its like a nigga overweight...
so many rounds...-you wonder why I roll with apes...
so many mouths...-I dunno if ya hoe was raped...
all I gave 'em is numbers...
have her suckin on the pipe...like she training a plunger...
my style is the truth...
before I open my mouth...fire hydrants...found...inside of the booth...
no otha...stone cold dome fucker...chrome trucker...
and no brother -I don't stutter...
