Loveleen
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Snake's up in the grass, Fake Gucci on her hip
The product of a warrior, The kids ran riots
While the black kid rapped
And a story of A city and the hatred for the piggies
Fuels fire in the bones was always proun to see the spliffy
Another young boy in a grave
With his picture on my shirt
Rest in Peace, and may you lay
Lay up in the heavens sippin' henny
Smiling at the city and your son who cries daddy (daddy)
We'll never get to see him be a king
But I promise I'll bless him with the money that I win
He's even got that same fucking smile
And laughs when i piss, and fucking sing about how
He once stole a truck and got arrested in the town
To the sounds of the pigs, (get on the ground)
92 got 'em So I'm getting them again
Black militant, back up on my 92 shit
Pants saggin' niggaritus, - with a 92 bitch
Born in 93, one double nine three
93, pre-milluminum a little bumble bee
See me, I mean, I was a warrior
One a mission, was running and fucking gunnin
And shooting my own decisions
Black, sell a fucking ounce of crack
Momma said to give it back, money over honey's
But the dream was to fucking rap
Walk around the city, looking pretty, but we're city rats
The intuiton, my 'tuition was the streets
Junkies sucking glass dicks, baby's trying to eat
Then DranaL - came along and sent a beat
Hip-Hop fucking history
Sipping guinness, fire flaming predicaments
Snatching a purse, to feed a habit drugs were prevalant
But the prevalence of hevean just a stain
On It's Relevance, momma said to get em
So i.
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Snake's up in the grass, Fake Gucci on her hip
The product of a warrior, The kids ran riots
While the black kid rapped
And a story of A city and the hatred for the piggies
Fuels fire in the bones was always proun to see the spliffy
Another young boy in a grave
With his picture on my shirt
Rest in Peace, and may you lay
Lay up in the heavens sippin' henny
Smiling at the city and your son who cries daddy (daddy)
We'll never get to see him be a king
But I promise I'll bless him with the money that I win
He's even got that same fucking smile
And laughs when i piss, and fucking sing about how
He once stole a truck and got arrested in the town
To the sounds of the pigs, (get on the ground)
92 got 'em So I'm getting them again
Black militant, back up on my 92 shit
Pants saggin' niggaritus, - with a 92 bitch
Born in 93, one double nine three
93, pre-milluminum a little bumble bee
See me, I mean, I was a warrior
One a mission, was running and fucking gunnin
And shooting my own decisions
Black, sell a fucking ounce of crack
Momma said to give it back, money over honey's
But the dream was to fucking rap
Walk around the city, looking pretty, but we're city rats
The intuiton, my 'tuition was the streets
Junkies sucking glass dicks, baby's trying to eat
Then DranaL - came along and sent a beat
Hip-Hop fucking history
Sipping guinness, fire flaming predicaments
Snatching a purse, to feed a habit drugs were prevalant
But the prevalence of hevean just a stain
On It's Relevance, momma said to get em
So i.
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Money, bitches, hoes
Greed, pussy, lords knows
Credits
Writer(s): Thierry Laurent Kronental, Alex Anyaegbunum, Gwennael Joel Latcher
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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