Let It Rain
Looks like rain...
Sittin down in my crack house
Earning my pay
It's the southwest juggla claiming Delray
Violent j, known by gang squad and police alike
I'm known to get wrong off the get right
Hanging out the truck I blow the mausburg off
Who the head of your set I blow your boss shirt off
I be the top dawg killa, who the bomb don?
You're soft like a bon bon, in your Sean John
I'm riding dirtay up and down fort, escort
I'm in a Ringmaster gold super sport
And it's about to rain I see the weather bad
Hit the top on up like I better had
I cut back to the cut, to get a cut of my cut,
Because even in a hurricane a crack head will show up
I be the gang tag K-a, gay fag slayer, bag weigher
With a sweet street sweeped AK I don't care...
(Chorus x2)
I like the darkness
It's 'bout to helly flow
Tornado sirens
Let it rain wicked shit
It's boring man, I'm smoking a blunt
It's pouring rain, the hood soaking it up
But it's getting kind of windy and the walls are shaking
Fucking roofs coming off I'm in a lazy boy, baking
I see the crack heads trying to reach the porch
But the wind sweep 'em off before they get to the door they only 90 pounds
Grab something held down, Because you looking funny flying around, FAG!
Blunt wrap on my lap, ash all over me
Playing Nintendo, mega man 4, from '93
Shudders are shaking and the lightning is frightening
Fucking windows are breaking; man I'm thinking it might be a tornado
Go to the door, open it up, yup, all the same back to my game
It's all right, along as that motherfucker stay outside I'm tight
(Chorus x2)
I like the darkness
It's 'bout to helly flow
Tornado sirens
Let it rain wicked shit
Holy fucking shit what the fuck is happilating
The whole house spinning and shaking
Damn near breaking in half, I take it and laugh
Because what the fuck can I do?
I put the rocks in my sock so I don't lose them too,
I'm fucking hanging on I lost all but my drawers
Somehow my game's still good chilling on pause
We air born and the windows flying passing by
A crackheads waving at me still trying to buy
Mailboxes, a pizza man, some garbage cans
Then I seen a naked ass bitch like... damn!
There was all kind a crazy shit caught in the storm
But before long all that shit was gone...
Sittin down in my crack house
Earning my pay
It's the southwest juggla claiming Delray
Violent j, known by gang squad and police alike
I'm known to get wrong off the get right
Hanging out the truck I blow the mausburg off
Who the head of your set I blow your boss shirt off
I be the top dawg killa, who the bomb don?
You're soft like a bon bon, in your Sean John
I'm riding dirtay up and down fort, escort
I'm in a Ringmaster gold super sport
And it's about to rain I see the weather bad
Hit the top on up like I better had
I cut back to the cut, to get a cut of my cut,
Because even in a hurricane a crack head will show up
I be the gang tag K-a, gay fag slayer, bag weigher
With a sweet street sweeped AK I don't care...
(Chorus x2)
I like the darkness
It's 'bout to helly flow
Tornado sirens
Let it rain wicked shit
It's boring man, I'm smoking a blunt
It's pouring rain, the hood soaking it up
But it's getting kind of windy and the walls are shaking
Fucking roofs coming off I'm in a lazy boy, baking
I see the crack heads trying to reach the porch
But the wind sweep 'em off before they get to the door they only 90 pounds
Grab something held down, Because you looking funny flying around, FAG!
Blunt wrap on my lap, ash all over me
Playing Nintendo, mega man 4, from '93
Shudders are shaking and the lightning is frightening
Fucking windows are breaking; man I'm thinking it might be a tornado
Go to the door, open it up, yup, all the same back to my game
It's all right, along as that motherfucker stay outside I'm tight
(Chorus x2)
I like the darkness
It's 'bout to helly flow
Tornado sirens
Let it rain wicked shit
Holy fucking shit what the fuck is happilating
The whole house spinning and shaking
Damn near breaking in half, I take it and laugh
Because what the fuck can I do?
I put the rocks in my sock so I don't lose them too,
I'm fucking hanging on I lost all but my drawers
Somehow my game's still good chilling on pause
We air born and the windows flying passing by
A crackheads waving at me still trying to buy
Mailboxes, a pizza man, some garbage cans
Then I seen a naked ass bitch like... damn!
There was all kind a crazy shit caught in the storm
But before long all that shit was gone...
Credits
Writer(s): Joseph Bruce, Michael John Jr Puwal
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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