hard liquor - styles p lyrics
whoever dance with the devil, under the pale moon light
time is money coming soon right
yeah, what up n*ggas think all y’all lame
’bout to bring the east back like the all star game
i’m about to win the chip like the pistons
whoop n*ggas and call it out like ali did liston
call me the zero rapper, head of the top 5
mr. pinero the ghost, we could’ve shot 5, n*gga
with the hands on the .38
catch me with the certi’ on, with a a pretty b*tch
truck full of weight tryna make the sh*t perculate
n*gga, you should watch for the bullet hole
we can play a game called watch where the bullet go
and i ain’t go platinum but i could’ve though
but i was in the pen, on the bar doing pull ups though
but don’t front, 700 off one single
only money talk, then son mingle, the gun bring you
more gifts than kris kringle, still in the hood
cause i still push dope through the sh*t single
i ain’t sh*t at least i know it
so when the floor got icy n*gga i ain’t slip
know i keep a nine on hip, passing whips
stepped it up to a stewardess, flying sh*t
f*ck around get the trunk on the cayenne d*ck
get my air force ones from my thailand chick
go ‘head, get smacked on some high end sh*t
i’m just playing but i’m not
i’m just saying that i’m hot
f*ck a match lil n*gga at the weigh*in you get dropped
don’t you f*ck with a bad temper
the gun will get squeezed just as soon as the mag enter
who let the f*g enter, my territory, turf and what not
bullets gon’ glide in search for what not
all in your face and your brain b*tch
yeah i got money but i don’t brag ’cause the sh*t ain’t changed sh*t
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