|
DJ Skribble - 187 lyrics
[B.G.] I'm a young nigga, go by tha name B.G. Don't stunt, nigga, my K hold fifty And I will use, in a minute you six feet I refuse to lose, I issue blues It'll be no clues When I strike, you lose I tip-toe light in Reebok shoes Your issue's.. where I hang You cannot stand without your pistol in your hand You ain't no man You get ran.. off tha set... like a bitch And if you stay.. it's trigga play Motherfucker, you get split And once it's on, it's on, you all in I'm comin' full force after tha hissin' Stay off tha block.. 'cause everyday I spin tha ben Without a grin Hot Boy$ I represent.. to tha end Just me and my girlfriend We out to win Still got ki's for ten I get from B Bring 'em straight in tha U.P.T. After tha pack it's chance for me off six deep I front a nigga Tried to play me, ain't playin' me Thought it was all gravy He got his issue (Chorus4x [B.G.]) It's gon' be 187 after 187 It's gon' be blukah after blukah out my MAC-11 [Juvenile] They got a lot of.. niggas tryin' ta.. get me killed But I done flipped.. tha fuckin' script.. and played it real Now I'm dippin'.. an Expidition.. around tha corner And can do.. just about.. whatever I want I'm money-rollin'.. and it's legal And ain't no quittin' in tha Regal Behind tha tints.. my chopper's spittin' Me and Dougie.. fuck in (?), and showin' us in It's like a movie.. they wanna do me.. it's on again I know it's showin'.. how niggas scorin'.. I can hear ya talkin' Niggas knowin'.. now they hoin'.. to me for offers I can't holla.. don't have no powder.. until tomorrow But I got a.. couple of dollars.. that you can borrow Nigga, go You're 'round my door.. you're drawin' heat You can go.. but on this porch you destroyin' me No exception.. at disrespectin'.. can't let it happen Now you step in.. my fuckin' section.. talkin' 'bout jackin' (Chorus4x) [B.G.] Duck.. nigga, duck Cuz when I come I gon' bust.. fifty-plus Don't give a fuck who in tha way It's on you.. when I spray Whoever hit, look here, it's on you Tha B.G. and Juvenile.. tear it down We get them pistols in our hand.. and act a clown Niggas fucked up don't know.. what to expect Cash Money liable to do anything next Fly around your set in a private jet Have your bitch next to me in a Corvette Or ridin' on tha back of my motorbike Around tha second line stun'n with tha loud pipes (vroom vroom) [Juvenile] We showcasin', bodies erasin'.. we want it all Joe Killer.. told me be patient.. we gonna ball Seven figures.. me and my niggas.. we comin' up Gettin' rid of.. tha garbage litter.. with fifty-plus Now we drainin'.. cuz that 'caine in-side of our nose Niggas playin' it.. tha way we sayin' it.. to let you know (Chorus6x) [B.G.] Juvenile and tha B.G. Juvenile and tha B.G. Juvenile and tha B.G. Represent tha U.P.T. Tha H.B., uh-huh Juvenile and tha B.G. Represent Cash Money Juvenile and tha B.G. Playa haters can't fade me You can talk that shit if you wanna I'll spin your corner You'se a gonner |
|
|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| Last added lyrics |
|---|
 Christmas Fantasy by Anita Baker |
 Fear of Flying by Mya |
 Version by Mark Ronson |
 Memory Almost Full by Paul McCartney |
 Our Love to Admire by Interpol |
