Smif-N-Wessun

[Tek] (Steele) Sittin on the toilet, shittin, puffin the dough Strobe light affect, everything's movin slow Slip into a deep zone, the sound let the phone bring me home Stagger to my feet, emotion toward the walk talk (Aiyo Ripper what up nigga, chec

I walk around town with the pound strapped down, That's only because it's mad real in Bucktown. It gets mad deep in the streets, When you gotta watch ya back for beasts,enemies even ya peeps. I step to my business stand strong on my own two, Do what

I walk around Town with my pound strapped down to my side No frontin' just in case I gotta smoke some Around here heads don't act their age Ya might be another dead Boy on the front page Enter the cipher, with ya lighter El's are ready prepare to run

Oh nah, these ain't raps, man I just wanna talk to ya Or should I say rap to ya? As I sit here holdin' my pen, ink in my pad Reminded of the things I did, all that I have I know where I've been so I know where I'm goin' To hell if I don't pray, that'

Submit Lyrics Your name will be printed as part of the credit when your lyric is approved. 专辑:Reloaded 歌手:Smif-N-Wessun 歌曲:Sick Em Son

Take it back ta like motherfucking eighties and shit (we love, you) My first love was a deuce-deuce, nice and slim Tucked in my Chucker boots, what a priceless gem When I took her out to the clubs, we got right in She kept me safe, even held me down

Before I lay my head down ta rest I roll up a nickel sack of cess ta relieve the stress The herb and the Calisthenics do a nigga justice They fake cause I'm a snake and cant be trusted I put up with none of them punks who front shit Even though some

[tek] Grab a hold of your heart and visualize it's a kickin A hollow point slug comin outta black biscuit You ain't just from death, we round to the corner, comin quick We method outta minds and just don't give a shit God damn it, gun shots we bust f

Boom bye bye, to a sound bwoy head, We don't promote no nasty man, dem hav fi dead, Givin' him two shots dead to him chin, enemy a friend, Fake the funk, i put the junk to an end, Now who da rude bwoy, wan tess de o.g., I find his family, to identify

What up? I heard that you got a little prob' Wit the way that we roll and the heads we done robbed Stickin' and flickin' the bangers, thrown them out through ya neck Another beat down inflicted by that nigga Tek And for ya back, establish, yea I got