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 #

justin credible freestyle - polo g lyrics

[verse]
pelle pelle wheat timbs like i’m straight out of yonkers
i see nothin’ but dead faces when i’m facin’ my ganja
b*tch, you on the north side, that’s why they say i’m a monster
no old k!ller, taliban, they used to hang with osama
all i hang with us crooks, and they play with them choppers
if he a lame like dillon brooks, i take him straight off the roster
sweet ass n*gga, how i can tell the way of his posture
lil’ bro swingin’ the stick, it’s like he tryna break a piñata
n*gga talkin’ ’bout extortion, i won’t pay him a dollar
glock go “bow”, make his dread shake like he flocka
‘fore a n*gga play with me, better play with his momma
pull up over here, and next he on his way to the doctor
b*tch, i’m strapped ’cause i’m from the ‘raq, city where we huntin’ hats
fienin’ for my old sh*t, cookin’ up another batch
sprintin’ to these millies, made a k!llin’ like i’m runnin’ track
foenem get to clappin’ at your head like a jumpin’ jack
know some k!llers livin’ with no guilt, they tryna run it back
feelin’ like i’m wilt, ’cause if they blitz, i send a hunnid a back
n*ggas yellin’ “free smoke”, they don’t send enough to match
lotta of n*ggas cappers, you a rapper or another rat?
wait until i die, gon’ hit them gates like “where my brothers at?”
steppin’ like i’m from a frat, lil’ bro tryna tuck a mat
trophy room, come and stack, hallway a hunnid plaques
every day i’m thumbin’ racks, no, i can’t get a (yeah)
these people got the nerve to try to tell me that i lost it
standin’ on my words and i never got exhausted
get punished when i purge, i like you better in a coffin
couldn’t fight the urge to push my level to the bosses
bezel yellow imbursed, stones cold, steve austin
train a bad b*tch to make her shut up when i’m talkin’
they act like brad pitt, make ’em step into my office
let that mac spit, tape yellow, red caution
d*mn, time to really show ’em who i am
get followed in real life for playin’ with me on the ‘gram, n*gga
i done earned stripes in the field like the rams
i’m clutchin’ this pipe while i’m turnin’ the wheel in the lamb’
feed her hard d*ck, the only time i give your lady lunch
and hang with the fam, rollin’ deep like the brady bunch
they can’t stop me when i score, they like “watch the way he come”
on the [?] twenty*four, b*tch, i can go for eighty*one (come on)
let’s sit and talk about some real sh*t
deep up in them slums, found a way to make a mill’ quick
i was goin’ numb, so much pain i couldn’t feel sh*t
foot up in they necks, i know i make it hard to deal with, ha
[outro]
on gang, man
hood poet, man, on gang
owe a lot to y’all man
new sh*t on the way
new album on the way

- polo g lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular