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mickey b more playloud - 40 once of bud ice lyrics
courus
40 once of bud ice
use to serve the white , actions never notarized
welcome to my last life
reality would always be a struggle or a fight
pain in some ways is like a gateway to see what you are made of
been staining for pay just like i was a slave tryna build kingdom
verse
d-mn i need these focking funds
feening for cake like i’m obese ah tone
leaving your face on the ground with my tongue
stealing first place got you late by a month
my style is so ill i don’t need to stunt
type lyrics to k!ll ,they never done
had a bird in the crib , when i was on the run
ran up in your store then i was on the run
had a little whore on northern parkway
she was in divorce court ,i was in her face
i was gone for six months ,traped in a case
nigga caught a charge , yea they ran tro my place
hands to the bars got a nigga going ape
dance with the stars of the hood in a cape
stand on your own cus you ain’t no baby
tapeing some crates staying late on a stift call grave
cross in my hand man i need that pay
in the struggle gotta husstle what i god d-mn say
getting down any way i see fit , don’t play
i spay with the lyrics in a random way
see the target then i hit but i left a couple starys
then i’m going lower nigga hand me a spade
send a kite to my mans he was doing some days
bend a dike on my bed i was like way
she give head
brought a friend but she wanted me pay 2
i could never get those things my way
i could pull a couple string down my way
put this on your ring tone let it play
im the realest ever did it
please me nice cold
verse 2
like i mother focking told ya
i fight till its over
i’m a mother focking soulja
i fold ya with toaster
it burn yo and smoking
loaking looking for something to catch
banking on taking a big on no tax
cranking a new dance but i am so fat
you cannot smile my you haters die
style by the pile, wild animal
spitting my files , tryna go live
living the trife life , niggas try to hype
living in a time line , luck on decline
try get that cake , had to bake up the white
torch light
moon bright
grip tool tight
spit two right
by you fright
i’m too high
need a nap bye
the street a be miles
but keeping short ties
my hand could grip a cold
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