a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

ross fyles tha don - real shit lyrics

(intro)

guru: take the money never have to run
take the money never have to run
(all for the cash sample)
take the money never have to run

ross fyles tha don: 2020

verse one:
got no love for people who ain’t in my life nomore
still a real f_cking don, that’s what i write this for
with some hardcore tracks
with some hardcore raps
and some hardcore gats that will blast at ya fat slag
i’m strong not physically but lyrically
put 3 shots in ya & call that sh_t a trilogy
one in your eye socket, hole in one
and then your soul is gone and you f_cking know it’s don
my trigger fingers itchy when i’m reaching for the john
you know the one
light you up like a cop car
bullets flying over your head looking like a cross bar
everyday i’m seeing toasters like a pop tart
you ain’t a rapper you’re a pop star
b_tch singing on the f_cking hook
f_ck that i’ve got the gat in my waist
and i’ll let it clap in your face
let the clip hit the concrete i’m snapping your bones
attacking your homes
with c4 attached to a drone
ducking shots then i squeeze the gat
my flows cold like water from a freezing tap
ain’t no realer than that
ain’t no giving it back
i’ll pick my clip back up and let it slip in the mac
hold my sh_t sideways and let them stick in your back
you can phone the plod on me coz i ain’t tripping off that
i’m robbing muppets for a living yeah i’m living off that
remy bottle in my hand yeah im sipping from that
and now never happy i keep looking at the down side
when i’m looking at my bars i’m seeing pound signs
you’re looking for ya b_tch the little trick she’s round mine
you lost your b_tch but sh_t i think i’ve found mine
no time for a b_tch i think i’ve found time
matter of fact give me 5 minutes more
if i want to get a strap then its a 5 minute walk
if you want to test me find yourself inside of a morgue
coroners pulling slugs from inside of your corpse
leaving lyrics floating round all your mind and your thoughts
i’m asking myself what makes me christian?
grinding this real sh_t and faith in my religion
this worlds f_cked up so i’m praying for the children
i f_cking hate the system
swerve a b_tch she’ll run to plod and say that you’ve hit them
but there’s no evidence
coz she ain’t got intelligence
making up a bull sh_t story coz she wants the f_cking pen to be my f_cking residence
now my f_cking pens like the president
on a war path
with some raw raps
treat you like a door mat
so ain’t that f_cking evident
i’m a ridah
sick bar provider
og who remembers f_cking chilling playing driver
yea, hollow tips ripping through a stab proof
trying to get away had me falling through a glass roof
the 9 will make your body ache like a black tooth
real sh_t

i’m going back in
f_ck that, f_ck that yo

and you’ll never catch me slippin
open fire on his whip and leave him with his tires skidding
leave him with a leg missing
i’m a lumber jack
i’m looking at you like your something wack
and when i’m in the booth you know i’m busting tracks
it’s ross fyles tha don i’m better than i ever was
a faker that’s some bull sh_t that i never was
and you don’t want to test me coz i f_cking clap tings
pulling triggers like ya pulling f_cking hamstrings
this ain’t despurse i go murking on a bad ming
you heard what i said and you won’t do a d_mn thing

outro:

i always keep it real
wether it be on the block
wether it he in the m_th_ph_kkin pen
or wether it be in a casket
don sh_t 2020 b_tch

- ross fyles tha don lyrics

كلمات أغنية عشوائية

اهم الاغاني لهذا الاسبوع