what up ballers
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| From: st3vil | Posted: 28/06/2010 3:31:39 AM |
| Swap six 45's, twist reefer in the flicks, papi whoadie ride Bolt his gun off, from know your horse, she lied Fly criteria, bury me in Africa With whips and spears, and rough diamonds out of Syria A true don, only I could do wrong Rock fitted hats, get crack money and drive a sick blue joint |
| From: st3vil | Posted: 28/06/2010 7:46:54 PM |
| the chinook dont make me freeze, like shivers it still go like breeze cmon steez,,,,E, why you gotta make yaself bleed cause i do and i try my crew knows i lie, shit i lye on the bed a girls head is better with bruuns like cha head game lame, sorry girl, you gotta teach ya self with the net touch ya self in vet, beamer, or bently benz i dont even have real friends, all my dope words just fall to this end |
| From: st3vil | Posted: 30/06/2010 8:11:11 PM |
| cause you the cat that packs pink caps to piece they though train I sodomize them with six broomstix to watch them walk strange, Slug drowns them in spit, Eyedea snaps the camera, Aesop prepares eulogies in iambic pentameter |
| From: st3vil | Posted: 01/07/2010 7:05:17 AM |
| The cloud becomes black, and the sky becomes blue Now you in the midst of the Dogg Pound crew Ain't no clue, on why the fuck we do what we do Leave you in a state of paranoia, oooh Don't make a move for your gat so soon cuz |
| From: st3vil | Posted: 01/07/2010 7:10:59 AM |
| im a little taller than shady thats ok im taller hes prolly faster maybe one things for sure thats if we in a place and people start to pour we might have 2 bics in 2 hands, we no whores |
| From: st3vil | Posted: 02/07/2010 6:23:25 AM |
| Fuck you losers, while you fake jacks I makes maneuvers like Hitler, sticking up, with German, The Mr. Meth-Tical from Staten Isle Will be back after this mess-age don't touch the dial Rarely do you see an MC out for justice Got my gun powder and my musket — blow!! |
| From: st3vil | Posted: 03/07/2010 8:31:51 AM |
| why is it every move i make turns out to be a bad one wheres my guardian angel, need one, wish i had one |
| From: st3vil | Posted: 05/07/2010 3:55:03 AM |
| [woman singing] You can hear the clock inside the ticking and tocking [Repeat 7x (fading out)] [man speaking] So you see sir, my deck of cards serves me as a bible An alamanac...and a prayer book My friends this story is true I know I was that soldier [Slug] I use to know this kid named Jesse |
| From: st3vil | Posted: 06/07/2010 4:17:30 AM |
| mumblin shit, he had one hand on her ass and she was rubbin his dick, toastin wine glasses Cherry scented candles was lit, couldn't handle the shit Searchin for words I found none, without a sound I left the house with a sick smile and took my gun Now I'm out buggin, whylin, what I'm gon do? Call my man Horse, meet me outside, I'm comin through |
| From: st3vil | Posted: 06/07/2010 6:30:12 AM |
| shit I can't forget about that big kid Geno, fucking diesel, do damn near anything for a C-note, his older sister talked his twisted ass into killin' Steve's girl, so she could get with him faster, speaking of Steve's girl, the one that Geno killed, her name was fadra, she used to stand on tables down at deja, tits and clits and car payments, and rent |
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