Free download
I saw the game was in need of a real artist, so I started grinding.
Song Info
Genre
Charts
Peak #7,030
Peak in subgenre #3,905
Author
Phillip Swope
Rights
�Chea Mayne Music Productions
Uploaded
March 16, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 3.7 MB • 128 kbps • 4:05
Lyrics
“We Coming”
Instrumental: Holdin It Down
I’m like keep up ya pace crook,
When Phelony on the track I’m in the race look,
My little fishes gone and take hooks,
See I’m pokin ya girl and I ain’t talking bout the face book,
Leave the whole place shook, My shit fire like its overcooked,
Money bubble look… like it got froth on it,
My driveway was bare so I put the Porsche on it,
My throat spit sick so its chicken broth on it,
This is not vomit, but it is infectious,
I am buried treasure, so this is ship wreckage,
I am the Tin Man, No I am perfection
But I have no heart left in my collection…
You want to find me, I give directions,
Don’t know what’s flyer, me or my reflection…
[Yup] I am a hot kid, so come find where Blockz lives,
You ain’t ready for me like a pop quiz…
My money dirty like herpes…
So you don’t wanna catch it…. and you don’t wanna catch me,
This that big diesel these is Shaq trees, wanna match theses?
I Pack Green like Brett Farve on the Audible,
Then its portable to get you packing ya quarter bowl,
My shit licked up like my dog water bowl.
Just call me daddy bet ya daughter know,
Get her shit that ain’t affordable.
Cuz every year I top the scales like Dr. Atkins,
So cops is slacking or I’m hot attraction!
Get ya girl to the spot and we start relaxing,
When we throw on Mr. Jackson, She is Billie Jean,
And I am Philly Cheese… so I know shes feeling me,
On the top like chili cheese is this really cream!
Silly me, nope not yet… I forgot yup…
Gotta wait til her spots wet and she drop sweat.
I’m all in my pimpin man,
I got the Mike on my team like I’m Pippen man,
Take a little whispering…Got ya chick striping-ing cuz its in the stroke ,
And if you want the throat you be better not be broke boy,
Better learn to smoke boy, nothing but the best man,
Nothing but the ses, all in ya chest man,
I’m pimpin in my pressed pants stunting in my denim
Am I leaving any questions, spitting like venom,
From a snake in the winter, now that’s cold poison,
From a Master like Splinter, Run ya block like a sprinter,
In a suit wit suspenders cuz I just left the county house,
The Cops got a bounty out… so I’m down and out,
I’m clowing them like a circus,
Rain on they parade then they drowning in they purpose,
Being Gangsta is a curse and most yall rehearsing,
Cuz the real ones is serving or they laying hearse man…
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