![]() ![]() Unterm Fensterl von Gesangs-Guitarristen Dr.Schnucki, ach Schnucki von Hermann Leopoldi.Der alte Tausendfüßler von Maria Andergast & Hans Lang.Du bist so keck von Maria Andergast & Hans Lang.Bitt' Sie, Herr Frisör von Peter Alexander.Der Seppl hat g'lacht von Maria Andergast & Hans Langĭie neuesten Liedertexte aus unserem Archiv.Die Ballade vom versteckten Tschurifetzen mt Akkorden von Georg Danzer.In den Straßen einer Großstadt von Maria Andergast & Hans Lang.Tramwayhüttl von Maria Andergast & Hans Lang.Jäger-Hosenträger von Maria Andergast & Hans Lang.I bin aus Oberösterreich von Linzer Buam.Ein Tag mit dir im Paradies mit Akkorden von Andrea Berg. ![]() Du bist die Rose vom Wörthersee von Maria Andergast & Hans Lang.Um diesen Text kommentieren zu können, musst Du eingeloggt sein! Leider gibts noch keine Kommentare zu diesem Text. ![]() I am a sinner who's probably gonna sin again Lord forgive me, Lord forgive me Things I don't understand Sometimes I need to be alone Bitch don't kill my vibe, bitch don't kill my vibe I can feel your energy from two planets away I got my drink, I got my music I would share it but today I'm yelling Bitch, don't kill my vibe bitch, don't kill my vibe Bitch, don't kill my vibe bitch, don't kill my vibe Look inside of my soul and you can find gold and maybe get rich, hol' up Trinidad Jame$ in four weeks But now my album platinum and shit, so what Y'all keep the numbers I'm more than another statistic, my nigga This courtesy of Compton Brooklyn go hard, motherfucker Love me on the East like I'm Chuck D Dominicans wish that I was born there I'm lookin' to be the god MC You look at my hat and see thorns there I look at the game and see porn there I'm fuckin' this industry hard I'm bagging this money, tea-bagging your honey You thought I was fresh out the yard Don't cry to me dummy, you're a lightweight They tell me you nice and I'm like "wait" Go get me a knife, you're looking like steak And when the stakes are high, I stake out for days And when the water inside, you're Bobby Boucher We thirsty nigga, never alert me, nigga I got a P89 in a suitcase I know you heard me, nigga, this is a burpee, nigga Lyrical exercise Right now, homie, I'm in the extra vibe Pipe down, it occurred when you heard that I got these words To the upper echelon, that's excellent Up in the clouds, me and my spouse Rumors on the ground gettin' too loud Please turn them shits down, can't hear myself think Turbulence, shit, almost spilled my drink In the White House with a mink Running through that bitch like it's my house All up in the hall like a mall Told you motherfuckers, all I do is ball No, I don't 'member you, I don't intend to empty my memory bank It's a million dollars in it, baby, Hilary Swank Sittin' next to Hilary smellin' like dank Presidential pardon, name one nigga out there harder than him, I'll wait I've been in my weight like 20 years straight I've been on my vibe like 20 years straight Don't fuck up my high, don't fuck up my high Nights like this, I could fuck up a pie Still keep straight and still be straight Fall back, bitch, I got a lot on my plate Don't waste my breath I don't know how many moons a nigga got left Back to this joint, smokin' this shit like I'm tryna' prove a point I'm the highest, the highest title, numero uno Kill my vibe, that's your motherfuckin' funeral Between you and me, turn eulogy to urinals, niggas pissed off I'm in this lil' diss shit, I'm pushin' my fart Leader of the new school, on my toes like a ballerina Who knew I'd be Black Swan World in my palms, ironically I am the Globetrotters' best Cause I didn't drop the ball Told niggas when I was 16 that I'd write a 16 To put a nigga right on the big screen In the paddy wagon with 16, should have been in the pen But then my pen write with morphine I heal niggas, touch down with more fiends I kill niggas, audio crack, khakis to meal ticket Cardio lap, was running for dear life but now I'm running the map Bitch, I'm here nigga, Picture little old me giving a fuck for what a fuck nigga gotta say Nigga you'll never be Jay, never be Nas, never be Snoop nor Dre You ain't get killed in Vegas or hit a Suburban Nigga, Puffy Daddy wasn't your favorite So many washed up with detergent But I don't dry tears, I just aim at them on purpose Like bluck, Mini-14 like bluck Empty out another magazine like bluck Hit a young nigga, get back I kill 'em all when they try to kill my vibe I am the bad, the good God, the last the hood got The last that would try to pass a good job If Shawn's a black Beatle then I need a 10 second drum solo Bitch see you at Woodstock Kommentare zum Text ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |