[Game whispering] Its Murder [The Game talking] It's 07 shit We runnin' through summers in dual hummers and tell them my crew coming for war [Verse
They're just little pink plastic bags Blowing on a highway alone They don't know where they'll go They just gonna float out, ho, ho, ho They're just
Yo, yo, yo 'Cause I'm this, Gorillaz from the mist Lyricist and my thoughts be twisted I spit the wickedest rhymes from a time that's never existed My
money bags shawty shawty got the bags money bags shawty i spend my money fast money bags shawty i got a lot of cash money bags shawty im stompin yo bitch
Chain wallet bitch It's a blackout night Chainwallet bitch Do you feel alright? Chainwallet bitch How you gonna be tonight? Do you feel alright?
Hey Philadelphia you used to exist As a city in the North-East where the Power used to sit There's no more Chicago She went down with the last of the
Sunday morn has a-broken Like a whip on my back And we still have not spoken Since the day that I left You got to lose love if you want to find love
JD lives on my street, stole his fathers car Drove it through the garage door. So poor now working at the corner store, Indentured to the damages, Manotick
[00:24][01:38][01:50][02:40][02:52][03:29][03:41]Vivo en un saco pegado al suelo, [00:27]de donde veo gente pasando, [00:31]y cuando salgo, entonces pienso
First I Look at the Purse by the J. Geils Band Some fellas look at the eyes Some fellas look at the nose Some fellas look at the size Some fellas look
The act of makin love...is... [REFRAIN] pink cookies in a plastic bag, gettin crushed by buildings pink cookies in a plastic bag, gettin crushed by
Got to get it out of me I feel let, I feel let, I feel let, I feel let down Push it out in spite of me I feel let, I feel let, I feel let, I feel let
Light ya joints, lets have a muthaphukkin smokeoff yall niggas bout ta see more of that country ass muthaphukkin Masta P from New Orleans to Richmond
Light ya joints lets have a muthaphukkin smokeoff yall niggas bout ta see more of that country ass muthaphukkin Masta P from New Orleans to Richmond
There's no sunshine in the city That's the way it's goin' down People kill and people dyin' Every time I turn around There's no sunshine I roll wit purse
Some fellows look at the eyes Some fellows look at the nose Some fellows look at the size Some fellows look at the clothes I don't care if her eyes are
Look into the eyes of the government liars Listen to the sound of the guilty choir Blood stains on the sacred pyre Under the book the breathing fire
So a red paper bag broke my heart today No one knows that it came form your hands The blood is still perched by the third letter form the right The red