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lil jon the east side boyz - chynalude (outro) lyrics
-featuring chyna whyte
[lil bo – talking]
aww yeah ya know it was real hanging out wit y’all motherf-ckers
on this here alb-m right
but this motherf-cker bout over and uh
time for me to get the h-ll on
been in the studio, the motherf-cking sun coming up
in this b-tch, motherf-cker, been in this motherf-cking studio
working hard on this motherf-cking alb-m
[background vocals from lil’ jon & big sam come in]
what up b-leech, godd-mn sleet as usual in the motherf-cking studio
kit, all the boys higher den a motherf-cker
we got tim over there f-cking up sh-t
ha, ha, but like i said time to get up out this alb-m knowhaimsayin
hope y’all enjoyed this motherf-cker
it was a lot of hard work putting this b-tch together
go look out for them, lg’s, my girl chyna whyte
and who knows what else to motherf-cking expect
from the motherf-cking bme ya little b–tch
[chorus x2]
[chyna whyte]
it’s one time for my soldiers on the front line
strapped with aks, and car bombs
with k-nine blood lines
it’s one time for my killers on the front line
strapped p-nines and semi-autos
actin like it’s no tomorrow
to survive in this world makes me a soldier
cause i wear reeboks, n-gg- why, cause they colder
every 3 years i battle my fans thug years
now i she’d tears, n-gg-, i ain’t happy here
like pot, so i blow herb thinking it’ll stop the pain
when i come down i’ll still be left with the strain
so i stay high so my eyes can stay dry
and i don’t give a f-ck why
n-gg- i was born to die
in the club head tight off of gin and kiwi
camouflage and dimes so the n-gg-s can’t see me
tellin em my name le-le or lisa
breaking them walls the visa 9-millimeter
sha-sha click, c-ck it, rock it
nothing but the reeboks and poppin
nuttin but motherf-cking nines and
b-mp, b-mp, you be running like forrest gump
knock you on yo -ss like humpty dump
chyna whyte leaves n-gg-s in a slump, serial
deadly like disease venereal
game as be rd imperial
pumpin through your stereo, n-gg- what you know
ain’t no log when that fo’-fo’
-j-c-l-t- up in your fo’ door
b-tch die slow, lyrical calico
purple tablets i flow
none want war, gambino
emptyin clips, i rips
motevl i flips
words comin off the lips like teflon’s hips
it’s one time!
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