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27feb/130

Yelawolf – F.A.S.T Ride

Visitas del post: 1.440

On that a*s, bit*h
Bumpin this funky a*s sh*t to ride to
Yel and I be bumping this funky-a*s sh*t to ride to
Yel on that a*s, bit*h
And I be bumping this funky a*s sh*t to ride to
Trunk Muzik bumping this funky a*s sh*t to ride to

Mello Yello can in my hand mullet, hog, what?
Country folks don’t talk much
They just get to work sawdust
Chainsaw, axe, knife, cut firewood, burn, logs, heat
Sleeping bag by the bricks come with the fly, I’m on some sh*t
Drum this out with two sticks
Soup a high school Coupe for new kicks
Zoom raps make mummies just lift from a tomb
Knock twice if you feel it
Born to rip, I should’ve been
Perforated by the rings like a Mead notebook
Squares want an artery blocked when I’m around
Circulated nerds are in, Urkel made it
I’ll slap Urkel, take his lunch money
Punks they run from me, drunk and upset
But I don’t run clumsy, punch a perp’
A one, two, three I’m at the Chelsea Hotel
Like City Nancy with the knife, and two grams of candy
Get the fee, fee, fu*k me
Please oh please don’t leave
Just give me the keys and crank that beat
‘Cause I might double up and strike, dry heave
But believe, oh believe I’m cold, I’mma freeze this beat
Like Freon, fricking neon, that’s me glowing in a snowstorm
Look here, we in these streets like a pair of Nikes
Well, I might be more like a pair of nice jeans, cause I’m

On that a*s, bit*h
Bumping this funky a*s sh*t to ride to
Yel and I be bumping this funky-a*s sh*t to ride to
Yel on that a*s, bit*h
And I be bumping this funky a*s sh*t to ride to
Trunk Muzik bumping this funky a*s sh*t to ride to

So what’s new?
Been on that sh*t, where’s the atlas?
Thumbtack it, South Kakalak it, Alabama has it go
Relax in a 1985 box train, perhaps I’m playing Relapse
Boss Eminem saw the gem in him
Oh, me? Yeah, who thought?
Just toss the white trash out the window
Now I’m in a ditch like broken pencils
Empty bottles and stolen rentals
This one is for all my kinfolk
Yeah, bring ‘em in, though
Out the rain, what’s a friend for?
Word, oh for sure yours truly, at the door
Had to add a syllable to that word
Country, but, oh, of course
Bit*hes go berserk for certainly, no need to be coerced
Odd economy, don’t need no nine, nine, nine, nine, nine and I know
Just the na, na, na, na, hey, hey, hey, goodbye, and hey, let’s roll
These hoes are no good, pills are okay
I just wanna get high, fu*k what you say
Wild, the pen play kind of like a samurai sword
With a big bit*h, bow to sensei
Motherfu*kin’ bit*h, its pay your rent day
You are not alone like my name was MJ
One glove and a fu*kin’ pair of penny loafers
And I moonwalk on the tempo like Billy Jean is not my friend, no
I’m just on that a*s, hoe
Bumping this funky a*s sh*t to ride to

Yeah, yeah
Bumping this funky a*s sh*t to ride to
On that a*s, bit*h
Bumping this funky a*s sh*t to ride to
On that a*s, hoe
Bumpin’ this funky a*s sh*t to ride to
Yeah, I’m on my sh*t now
Yeah, I’m on my sh*t now
Yeah, I’m on my sh*t now
Yeah, I’m on my sh*t now
Yeah, I’m on my sh*t now
Yeah, I’m on my sh*t now
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go
Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go
Let’s go, let’s go
Yeah, I’m on my sh*t now
I’m on my sh*t now
I’m on my sh*t now
I’m on my sh*t now
I’m on my
Yeah, I’m on my sh*t now
I’m on my sh*t now
Let’s go.

Letra / Lyrics

Etiquetado con: FAST Ride, Letra, Lyrics, Yelawolf No hay comentarios

4feb/130

Dyland & Lenny Ft. Yomo – La Cura

Visitas del post: 182

Letra de La Cura de Dyland & Lenny Ft. Yomo

Yo no voy a dejar que se metan contigo
Tienen que aceptar que tú eres mi destino
Deben entenderlo ya

Aunque todo el mundo me dice que me quite
Que tú me tienes dañado pero no me importa
Porque contigo es que me siento libre
Te lo repito baby

Yo necesito de tu cuerpo
Estoy adicto, quiero verlo otra vez
Eres la cura de esto que me tiene enfermo
Eres lo único que quiero comer

Yo necesito de tu cuerpo
El doctor dice que no te vuelva a ver
Eres la droga, la receta que yo quiero
Eres el único mal que me hace bien

Que va, que no me importa
Lo que en la calle la gente comente
Que eres mi vicio, que me desquicio
Y que solo con ver, solo me basta porque eres mi cura
Estoy juquiao' de tú cintura
Yo me arrebato en tus ojos, tu boca, beba, tu figura
Que simplemente tú haces que vuele mi mente
Hasta Marte
Haces que se activen mis neuronas
Y tu aroma, me causa una metamorfosis
De tu amor solo una dosis y esta no razonan
Se aloca solo con una cacha de tu boca
Me inyecta pasión, en la habitación me sofoca
Me tiene tu cuerpo TK juquiao' nadie me salva
Si no te tengo mi cuerpo se enferma

Quiero morirme beba de una sobredosis
Yo soy adicto de ese cuerpo que es tan sexy
Mi pana dicen que me rehabilite
Que me quite, pa que más nunca yo te necesite (x2)

Yo necesito de tu cuerpo
Estoy adicto, quiero verlo otra vez
Eres la cura de esto que me tiene enfermo
Eres lo único que quiero comer

Yo necesito de tu cuerpo
El doctor dice que no te vuelva a ver
Eres la droga, la receta que yo quiero
Eres el único mal que me hace bien

Todo el día yo te pienso y no pienso dejar el vicio
Que me relaja cuando estoy tenso to'
Recorra mi boca ricamente como tú
Morenita y que no sepa a bubbaloo boo
Quiero darme una cacha, de tus cachas
Viendo como se acacha, rica muchacha
Búscate un veneno pa' matar cucarachas
Envidiosos que quieren que cancele la guarracha
Yo contigo me quedo, aunque te bajen el dedo
? El trasero
Que lo sepa el mundo entero, a ritmo de ti yo soy

Yo necesito de tu cuerpo
Estoy adicto, quiero verlo otra vez
Eres la cura de esto que me tiene enfermo
Eres lo único que quiero comer

Yo necesito de tu cuerpo
El doctor dice que no te vuelva a ver
Eres la droga, la receta que yo quiero
Eres el único mal que me hace bien.

Letra / Lyrics

Etiquetado con: Dyland & Lenny, La Cura, Letra, Lyrics, Yomo No hay comentarios

25ene/130

Lil Reese Ft. Young Jeezy & Twista – Traffic (Remix)

Visitas del post: 560

Letra de Traffic (Remix) de Lil Reese Ft. Young Jeezy & Twista

We ain’t really with that talking, bit*h, we ‘bout that action
He not ‘bout that life, man, catch him in traffic

We ain’t really with that talking, bit*h, we ‘bout that action
He not ‘bout that life, man, catch him in traffic
We ain’t really with that talking, bit*h, we love that action
I lost so many nig*as I turned into a savage
In real life, no movie sh*t, bit*h we clapping
Where I’m from? This Chirac, you get that fast attraction
Kicked your bit*h to the curb, she was too dramatic
And where I’m from, that’s 300, “normal” spelled backwards

Got some Lil’ nig*as in the Chi-town
They ain’t ‘bout to be talking
Six-hundred horses in my town
‘Cause I ain’t ‘bout to be walking
See I don’t know what the game’s about
But I ain’t ‘bout to be playing
Nig*a keep my name up out your mouth
That’s all the fu*k that I’m saying
I ain’t never been no police
I ain’t never did no cuffing
Nig*a killing nig*as in all your rhymes
Ain’t never did no busting
Countin’ the money took two days
Lil’ nig*as’ll do ya for some new J’s
Real talk and that’s nothing
Gloves on and that oven
Said she don’t get the good dick often
Now she ‘bout to be stalking
Got her on that killer kill
And that’s why the bit*h coughing
See my targets flipping like Gabby
They be doing gymnastics
Nig*a I ain’t high and I ain’t hard to find
If you look for me, I’m in traffic

Let a nig*a go in on me? I can’t imagine
But I’m out here in these streets – catch me in traffic
My nig*as shoot for free, they’ll let you have it
My nig*as do for me, ain’t no way around it
Bloodhound for that money, bit*h, I gotta have it
Goin’ crazy – twenties, fifties, hundreds, bit*h, I’m cashing
And I ain’t really with the talk, bit*h, I’m money stacking
And he ain’t really ‘bout that life ‘cause he don’t love that action
And they don’t come from where I come from
They weren’t born a savage
Late night sh*t catch him in traffic
I ain’t really gotta talk, bit*h, catch me in traffic
And you know I got it on me, so I’m never lacking

Lights, camera, action, nig*a
But this ain’t no motherfu*kin’ cinema
Finna send it up, dude, not true, screws not loose
Tupac, Juice, nig*a, hit ‘em up
Nig*as don’t know how to argue
Killer hard sh*t when you see the mob thick in the whip
Now you car’s hit, nig*as’ loose lips
Talkin’ nonsense, feel the contents of a clip
Whatever you wanna do we can take it there
Nig*as around me want action
Like a rhythm or tick
Forty calibers and nine millimeters equal subtraction
They could pull up in the Jag with the runner on the side
Level opposition with the creep-creep
Beep, beep! Put ‘em in a deep sleep
See the way Reese or Chief Keef make beef brief
Beast teeth, I’m a motherfu*kin’ monster
Eatin’ up anybody that’s coming at Windy City grind
What you know about them nig*as
Pulling up on the side of your Mercedez in traffic hitting it 50 times?
Don’t get into it with ‘em, they gon’ let you have it
You might end up in a coffin, you can call him Casket

We ain’t really with that talkin’, bit*h, we ‘bout that action
He not ‘bout that life, man, catch him in traffic.

Letra / Lyrics

Etiquetado con: Letra, Lil Reese, Lyrics, Traffic (Remix), Twista, Young Jeezy No hay comentarios

10ene/130

Young Scooter Ft. Trinidad Jame – I Can’t Wait

Visitas del post: 141

Letra de I Can't Wait de Young Scooter Ft. Trinidad Jame

Bit*h, bit*h!

I can’t wait on no nig*a
You?
Nig*a, you a fu*k nig*a
I stay counting up, nig*a
Young scoot, Trinidad, turnt up, nig*a
I I can’t wait on no nig*a
You?
Nig*a, you a fu*k nig*a
I stay counting up, nig*a
Young scoot, Trinidad, turn up, nig*a

I put that street money with that rap money
And put that Gucci money with that heckler money
You short me on Gucci money, everybody gunning
Little Mexico City, we print our own money
Counted a lot of free band when mystical ran
Witness me buy an m6 with no advance
Witness me hit a lot of licks with no mask
You running out of money, stop finessing
I scooter got his own money
You nig*a, you a crash dummy
I all I want is more money
Then take the rose off the streets
I got them boats coming

I can’t wait on no nig*a
You?
Nig*a, you a fu*k nig*a
I stay counting up, nig*a
Young scoot, Trinidad, turn up, nig*a
I I can’t wait on no nig*a
You?
Nig*a, you a fu*k nig*a
I stay counting up, nig*a
Young scoot, Trinidad, turn up, nig*a

I’m a player, nig*a you a hater, bit*h
Tell your sister call me up, I want that pussy laid
I’m a player, nig*a you a hater, nig*a
Tell your sister call me up, I want that pussy laid
Trinidad do what Trinidad do ‘cause trinidad that man
If your bit*h with Trinidad then you gon’ be mad
She heard about Trinidad and I heard she want that sack
I ain’t sharin’ sh*t y’all bit*hes ain’t sh*t
If you fu*k me, I’mma call scooter
He gon’ have to fu*k, fu*k them (yessir)
This one for the real nig*as from Cleveland down to glen
I would’ve, mentioned y’all, but y’all nig*as my friends
I would’ve, mentioned y’all, but y’all nig*as my friends
Bit*h!

Letra / Lyrics

Etiquetado con: I Can't Wait, Letra, Lyrics, Trinidad Jame, Young Scooter No hay comentarios

9ene/130

Cap 1 Ft. Young Jeezy & The Game – Gang Bang

Visitas del post: 581

Letra de Gang Bang de Cap 1 Ft. Young Jeezy & The Game

Chyeah
Bring me my ma’fu*kin’ hat
Set trippin’ on you nig*as
‘Bout to get it gangbanging on you ma’fu*kas
Chyeah
Cut through this ma’fu*ka with the top back
Throwing signs all out the window at you nig*as
Chyeah
You know what it is, nig*a
Aye, look

I’m from the city where they gangbang
Gangbang, gangbang, gangbang
Tattoos on my body represent my gang
Bunch of nig*as with me repping the same thing

What you repping homie? What you repping cous’?
What you repping gangster? What you repping blood?
Throw your sets high rep for that logo
Got my hat cocked pistol in the chokehold
Bunch of nig*as with me – they all felons
Extended clips ak47s
Gangster disciples black stones
Vice lords we back on
My city love, can’t forget them Latin kings
First plug was a Mexican I met; he threw me half a thing
Blow me with them midis,
I wanna make a play like a nig*a getting’ busy
Breaking down work over east with the four
Gangbangin’ nig*a whoop a nig*a out his clothes

I’m from the city where they gangbang
Gangbang, gangbang, gangbang
Tattoos on my body represent my gang
Bunch of nig*as with me repping the same thing (x2)

I’m a hood nig*a, and y’all know that
Familiar bricks be foam-wrapped
Whole thing I grind it up
Rolex I don’t wind it up
Some nig*as hoods bleed blue
Some nig*as hoods bleed red
Just seen a dead man walking
Homies call him lil’ ½ dead
Caddy off and it’s damn fast
Mama smoking, she a crack head
I only know how to activate
Nig*a, grab the semi, nig*a crack heads
Hundred deep they on the block
Trigger play, that’s off the top
Every young nig*a posted up
And live a thug life just like…
That paper chase, when will it stop?
Hustler just like his pops
Nig*a sixteen with a eighteen
Nig*a, sixteen all in the glock
Riding on his enemies
All these dreams, buying quarter keys
Two blocks, that’s 66th
Ask him where he from, he gon’ represent

I’m from the city where they gangbang
Gangbang, gangbang, gangbang
Tattoos on my body represent my gang
Bunch of nig*as with me repping the same thing (x2)

I’m 500 with this bandana
My bars crack, no antennae
I rock jewels, no Santana
Give you sixteen’s, you’re Montana
I put nig*as on wold star
Then go platinum the next day
Put hollow tips in your girl’s car
Then be at the funeral like “let’s pray”
Got a hundred racks in my back pack
Put half of that on your snapback
Nig*a living life on that fast track
‘Til he slowed down by that black Mack
I’m a real blood
Come to compton, see real thugs
Since Mary J did “real love”
I’ve been popping nig*as like pills, blood
12-years-old, walking to sixth grade
Red bulls jersey and a switchblade
See the block and let them heaters pop
It ain’t a nig*a from my hood that’s bit*h-made
I got a red rag in my trews
Red dots on my tools
Redbone in my coup
Red ‘rari, no roof
Up the ratchet like sue
Then pull the trigger, like “whoop”
Milk carton catch the shells
Now we merkig nig*as, no proof
I’m authentic, fu*k a throwback
Nig*as throw one I throw four back
It’s blood gang, let’s go, cap
Yeah

I’m from the city where they gangbang
Gangbang, gangbang, gangbang
Tattoos on my body represent my gang
Bunch of nig*as with me repping the same thing

Gangbang, gangbang, gangbang, gangbang
Tattoos on my body represent my gang
Bunch of nig*as with me repping the same thing.

Letra / Lyrics

Etiquetado con: Cap 1, Gang Bang, Letra, Lyrics, The Game, Young Jeezy No hay comentarios

7ene/130

Ya Boy – Frisbee

Visitas del post: 162

Letra de Frisbee de Ya Boy

What’s trapping baby, where the Molly at?
What’s trapping baby, where the molly at? Ha!

Hold up, hold up, wait a minute man
That bit*h don’t look the same as a instagram
I need me a molly so I can see clear
White boy wasted, like I drink beer
She can tell by the bit*h that I’m with that I get dough
I’m 6’ 1’’ but my money like 10’ 4”
All my mama money long like the bay bridge
We don’t say female, we just say bit*h
Bad money I can fu*k her for tonight and
If she don’t like the rocka then she don’t like men
She don’t wear Louie bag, she don’t get money
Ain’t sh*t funny bit*h come and strip for me
And I don’t love no hoe, for those of you that don’t know
In Hollywood I’m so known
Fu*ked a couple videos bit*hes about the no ho
Your girl know I’m famous, that’s why she taking photos

You’re looking like a star girl you’re shining like Vegas
Talking bout money, then you speaking my language
Let’s get it trapping
Money long, stay fresh, lil mama on, say bit*h
And the 5th blowing big trees
Baby fine at a 10b, turn up
She already know what the lick be
So she just wanna ride me like a 10 speed
Where she at, coming back like a frisbee
I keep her coming back like a frisbee
Wassup, wassup, wassup

Hold up, wait a minute daddy
I swear that bit*h ain’t looking like a twitter avi
Short center, wife beater like I’m in Miami
Dick make her sing good, get that bit*h a grammy
And I’m in the gym shooting like I’m trigger happy
I ain’t talking bar no bit*h your nig*a trappy
What’s happening, got the club trapping
Gave that bit*h a molly but told her it was an aspirin
She said a nig*a play for the 49’ers
Damn, bit*h that nig*a got you in the hinder
What the fu*k you wearing bit*h that ain’t designer
Type of hoe that sell a
I need a bad bit*h fresh out detention
Nig*a you love her, you all in her ad mentions
I just wanna get head while I count hunneds
She will never go back, rocka outdone it

Letra / Lyrics

Etiquetado con: Frisbee, Letra, Lyrics, Ya Boy No hay comentarios

7ene/130

Rifah Ft. Yo Gotti & The Game – Shake It

Visitas del post: 162

Letra de Shake It de Rifah Ft. Yo Gotti & The Game

Shake it, shake it, shake it
Go baby, shake it, shake it
Shake it, go shake it, go stir it up
Shake it, shake it, shake it
Go baby, shake it, shake it
Shake it, go shake it, stir it up
Shake it, shake it, shake it
Go baby, shake it, shake it
Shake it, go shake it, stir it up

Shake yeah gir, stir it up, go and bust that thing open
That me and my nig*as in that picture you posted
Who asking me where I stay up, I ain’t riding round in no maybach
But these wheels cost a fortune
And I ain’t talking about that saint jack
Molly got her in more room, stiring up in that soho
Coming out of her clothes, tryina reach our goals
Rick playing these strippers, hit em all in my room
Only time I gets the when I put in my boom
Y’all know what I do, roll up, I ain’t cute to get juice
Call the shrink so I’ma fu*k this pussy in her boots
Dial 911, hit for I think they having a seizure
Cause these bit*hes be shaking

We walk through the door, they be stiring it up
Little girls in toom, so they pernin em up
With a pole in the kitchen where I’m burning it up
So she can shake, shake, shake, while I’m stiring it up
I am, strip club king make a break
Charge too hard don’t charge to the game
She a video a chick or a dope boy bit*h
Ran through a free dick, fin to get a little faint
Hey, you already know what it is
Cup full of don, sack full of pills
Stacks on deck when I step in the club
Night Benz coup, with a Jake out real
You got in this, so you know what it is

I make it up who the fu*k want a problem?
Swag on tittie, nig*a ain’t from Harlem
Bit*h with me look like Cassie though
Cause she right on time, Casio
Not on my wrist, no son of a bit*h
No fans to the nig*as that do though
But I’m off in the club with the huge blow boss like Hugo
Too off the trone, other one off the
Me I do spades, pretty tony taper
Low one with the fay, tryina see shake that brick squad, Flocka
But me don’t like brave, me like cars, me like jays
I go left, you nig*as tryina be like jay
Got hooks lika pachia, while your dark skin nig*as run around
Tryina be like may

You got a body so, show it if you gotta go
Pop a molly hoe, pop a, pop a Mollie hoe
What you working with? Show me what you working with
What you working with? Show me what you working with
You got a body so, show it if you gotta go
Pop a molly hoe, pop a, pop a Mollie hoe
What you working with? Show me what you working with
What you working with? Show me what you working with

Letra / Lyrics

Etiquetado con: Letra, Lyrics, Rifah, Shake It, The Game, Yo Gotti No hay comentarios

7ene/130

Young Scooter Ft. Mase & Verse Simmonds – Made It Through The Struggle

Visitas del post: 390

Letra de Made It Through The Struggle de Young Scooter Ft. Mase & Verse Simmonds

My life been crazy
You street nig*a, you know how I feel

I made it through the struggle-struggle, struggle-struggle
I grind it out that gutter, gutter, gutter
This a letter to my mama, to my mama
I never had a f*ckin father, no
Ain’t no more going broke, ain’t no more going broke
Ain’t no more going broke, ain’t no more going broke
I made it through the struggle-struggle, struggle struggle
I grind it out that gutter, gutter, gutter, yeah yeah

Woke up broke, a thousand times
No days I’ll stay on the grind
You can feel it over felling you can press with wine
Had a thing like fifty sinking rich a die trying
For this black miggle, sh*t my life is on the line
We made it out the struggle through them hard times
Sugar in that gutter gutter on the power line
I do this sh*t for my little brothers like this kids mine
Got me stressed out ’cause he f*ck the face and all that time
Isn’t this crazy ’cause this day I’m in to try
And I got to myself, and I take car my nig*as
I take care my family, know the world understand

I’m making white hoodie, white shaze, white jaze on white snow
White bugatti in a white Ferrari, with white diamonds on white gold
White grill, white benz, roll around with my white friends,
White fur in a right rims, you say my name and you right in
I’m no fin to him, I got the in
You wanna handle him and who stand with him,
I got the lambo in I’m in the manderin
I got them ask on shawty acting like a man again
I told the quip with the
She says she gonna be my car, I’m still never gonna be a man again
She a murder in the trap is a bubbie
Young scooter ain’t gucci, so many maybach out front
Nig*as think I roll em with Gucci
I ain’t taking no jewelry over you, gonna cock a nig*a come shoot me
I ain’t ready for the old murderer, then what you’re gonna do with the new me

My daddy got a instant want me sh*t to me
Six years old I ain’t have sh*t to eat
My stomach empty balled up I can’t get no sleep
Can’t wait to go to school, as my meal all weak
Used to watch from the old lean, I got flow seats
I used to catch rise, now as far for six
I’m free as fifty bands dancing for four week
My mama called my phone talk to my daddy last week
He heard I got a song on the street called Colombia
My daddy smoke Colombia, so daddy I don’t fu*k with you
My mama raised a hustler, my mama was a hustler
Gotta think my mama had to move out the gutter

Letra / Lyrics

Etiquetado con: Letra, Lyrics, Made It Through The Struggle, Mase, Verse Simmonds, Young Scooter No hay comentarios

22dic/120

50 Cent Ft. Snoop Dogg & Young Jeezy – Major Distribution (Traducida)

Visitas del post: 737

Letra en español de Major Distribution de 50 Cent Ft. Snoop Dogg & Young Jeezy

Original

I’m trying to move 1 one brick, 2 brick, 3 bricks, four, more
I’m trying to move 5 bricks, 10 bricks, 20 bricks raw
I smoke one ounce staring at the caddy on the showroom floor
Now I’m trying to move 5 pounds
10 pounds, 20 pounds, more boys
From Letra-Lyrics.com

Run tell the blood’s I’m crip and go tell the crisp I’m blood
Nig*a, I be tripping, bit*h, I don’t give a fu*k
I put the k on nig*as, I spray on nig*as
Come through 2012, xj on nig*as
I’m a apex predator, nig*a, I’m strolling
From Letra-Lyrics.com
Shooters on deck, I break bread and they own me
Nig*as said I fell off, oh, you heard I fell off?
Why the fu*k would you be repeating that?
Nig*a, I’m rap tycoon, make a 100 mill by June
Now who the fu*k said I can’t rap, jack?
I’m in a dolphins dream, I got it for ‘em raw
That’s that morphing memories, except I’m breaking the law
I was born ?, in the stroller with the llama
I’m violent, I kill a nig*a, put that on my mama
Nah, nah, don’t tell me nothing about none of these nig*as
I smoke all these nig*as for this bread
From Letra-Lyrics.com
I’m trying to move 1 one brick, 2 brick, 3 bricks, four, more
I’m trying to move 5 bricks, 10 bricks, 20 bricks raw
I smoke one ounce staring at the caddy on the showroom floor
Now I’m trying to move 5 pounds
10 pounds, 20 pounds, more boys
From Letra-Lyrics.com

I give a fu*k about a fed as I jump up outta bed
5 pounds, 10 pounds, 20 pounds, yeah
I’m trying to put this shit away
On the low, I need a hit a day, think you better get away
From Letra-Lyrics.com
From my, oh, my, I got a Bernie that’ll fire
From Cali to Kingston, back to NY
Snoop’s master Kush, smoke 9 to 5
Come by and get you some pounds and now you flying high
From Letra-Lyrics.com
Rub it with the metal with my foot to the pedal
G’s with the trees and ? On my level
5-0, you know I go hard, these fools caught me.
From Letra-Lyrics.com