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Twista
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Bennie Franks
作词:Bennie Franks, Frederick Taylor
I drop bombs like who say mad ass Verbal ammunition when I solve a blast ass I stash cash Assassination like Ras Kass Bitches and 10 hut
I'ma money making soldier 'cause I don't give no fuck, the world is mine You stepping over gages grenades and land mines so hand mine If you was around nigga you probably ban mine Off the loado watching out for the rorrow popping at the po po 99 brinks truck candy apple sitting on normols
Them niggas don't wanna see us come up So fuck them marks for the legit ballers for the world blow up Its ain't no sold off shit I'm still top of the mess Check Tom disrespect Tom Teflon through his chest and fuck 'em for T
I'm rolling in my candle camouflage Wing ding and white wands and now I ready to march Embark on this who trying to whip the lyrical arsonist Look learn and listen my baguette still glisten
My nine shines its 6 past 6 so bitches prime time Who in they write mine nigga trying to define rhyme L E G I T ballers Give it up for them pistol pistol the knuckle street baller, come on
B E double N I E Franks B E double N I E Franks B E double N I E Franks B E double N I E Franks
It's a joint we completed niggas ballers boy Thats the money making soldiers bringing all the noise Ain't nothing on ya block but them vocaling toys Riding tinted out real straps hoes galore
Now it don't get no deeper than this Mr. Obysis come on my style with a twist I'm out the midst Checking ya style is too close for coffin
Put me to stand and nigga ya playing If your all shit surrounding I'm abandoning I strike back like heaven on I'm on a spree taking out all niggas sounding like me like Andrew Cullonon
Y'all can go to a reawrike guiness on a one road business It's a sin to swallow all the witness now I'm guilty by suspicion I know this shit got ya mind twisted so who I make concern Tossing this shit like blind bitches touching ya ass getting burned
212 of them degrees wrecking impostor emcee's chop 'em off at the knees 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 Face to face with your enemy, I'm G.I. to C H I C H, yo heffa Fo fo go go blow em outta his a betta chose yo The return of the funeral cage right Come on ya all do wanna do it to Tillman or a Ben Jagger
'Cause its that nigga from the 3-1-2 capital double L-L Bring the noise shit we bound to burn them boys Although he's a nice guy and when the drought is to 'em I brought em pain Come on rasta man tell 'em what the the thang hey
B E double N I E Franks B E double N I E Franks B E double N I E Franks B E double N I E Franks
It's a joint we completed niggas ballers boy Thats the money making soldiers bringing all the noise Ain't nothing on ya block but them vocaling toys Riding tinted out real straps hoes galore
B E double N I E Franks Who want to come test me now think The game is over it's officially my time You fuck around nigga and get ya label shut down
Who them niggas try to diss and made a clip but they miss Y'all shouldn't a let me tangle legit ballers and twist I axe ya wrist off, who can I trust hits ya Who can I bust I fiend for cash put beans on fast got singers as jack I told ya save that shit for last
Guard ya glamoura I'm fucking up opponents and challengers Shoulda charged ya stamina here comes the Watch me damage ya, we mash and bang with mask and thang Get jacked ya name reclaim the game and I'll blast ya fame You say the war is on bring it I spare you, come back to my city nigga
B E double N I E Franks B E double N I E Franks B E double N I E Franks B E double N I E Franks
It's a joint we completed niggas ballers boy Thats the money making soldiers bringing all the noise Ain't nothing on ya block but them vocaling toys Riding tinted out real straps hoes galore
It's a joint we completed niggas ballers boy Thats the money making soldiers bringing all the noise Ain't nothing on ya block but them vocaling toys Riding tinted out real straps hoes galore
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