lirikcinta.com
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 #

david ruffin - the freshmen of brooklymore lyrics

Loading...

[prod. by the university of brooklymore]

[intro: dennis edwards]
hold it, hold it. listen

[everybodyh8srylo]
i invented amenelujah, cracking arizonas and mixing it with the kool-aid/did it my way f-ck ya ruler and f-ck ya rules
if i cared about what you think i would tell you to suck a d-ck
b-tch, dont talk to me, email me at
imaf-ckinblackheartthrobkeepcalmthistfob@imam-th-f-ckinggmail.com aaah!

[elvis]
while i log-in to this flyness, your highness
teddy dreamy buckle up, im ya pilot
shift pivots extra luggage for the vacay, cash-out life looking like a instant-replay
highlights, deck of card trump-type, slight, ma like what would you do for a klondike
i might spazz over my sound-bite, suit and tie g, im guaranteed p-ssy at prom night
took a bad b-tch to see “mama mia!” and i put that on my mama mia
check the feet, thats some coca-ina, 2pac back im on my coach-lla
rylie say he “brrr” he need a chinchilla, make stacks burn stacks, ben scrilla
hard body catalina, f-ck ya sisters, tia and tamera

[everybodyh8srylo]
and ya mother ya aunts ex-girl too and the girl from 4-e watch a statefarm commercial
like a good neighbor im there, in the studio! just rappin, like a tuna roll
im not a smart alec you a you a stupid hoe, k!ll ya self, funeraaaal
and its back to business, as usual

[elvis]
like your b-tch on all fours, pistol c-cked so you know im letting off loads
spin cycle like a laundromat extra cognac got her like a quarterback “blue 32″ shotgun she tried to dodge the sack
fumble now a n-gga in the endzone, she about the head, you would think she went to temple
i smashed it on the gl-ss, pinned it on the backboard, f-ck a drum set, what you think she got that -ss for?

[everybodyh8srylo]
3-2-1 action, b-tch im david ruffin they coming to see me
sound big-headed, prolly look taller on t.v., sh-tting on n-ggas they bout to get t.p’d
off, these n-ggas is weak-sauce, im married to getting money throw rice or some pilaf
ah, im feeling myself, dont waist my time, dont even watch the belt
i, come to your house stunting up in my bathrobe, shut up if you aske when sh-t coming out like a -ssh0l-
oh im a -ssh0l-? because i get i cracking, murda everything, el get the casket
imma pay sallie, than imma get tatted, and when it get cold, i’ll cop a mink-dragon
in the benz with four seats, so you can’t hop on the band wagon

[elvis]
fresh copy written, swagger consistent and i got that badaboom, check my badabing swing
lock me in a padded room i’ll make that look cool true, you wish you was me huh? guiseppe ‘notti’s huh?
you ain’t got these huh? pipe down, chips low you ain’t even in the right crowd
you a studio apartment, im a whitehouse, better pay ya f-cking bill, or get ya lights out

[everybodyh8srylo]
and your heat off, internet down, you probably can’t send a tweet off, cell phone dead and so is ya f-cking swag boy
get a body bag and tell them just why you mad boy
they dont hear me though, probably got some little ears, son sit your -ss down, in that little cheer
you a square n-gga, in a box hoe, im a long-haired n-gga at the top floor
matter of fact, im on the roof trying to mump it out, me and el two fly n-ggas bugging out
got my eyes on ya girl, i ain’t come to browse, i think you need to smarten up, i dont dumb it down
and i ain’t trying to hear sh-t about you running sh-t, i’ll walk n-gga, like bucky covington
we outchea, f-ck with us, give that freshmen 15 love, f-ck tennis
yeah…………whoop!”

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular

Loading...