corrija a letra Letra Support por Styles P

Retornar

Letra

All my n***as getting bread in New York
Trying to stay away from federal court, I feel your pain
To my n***as that never would talk
I let you know I send my support
Do your thing!

All my n***as getting bread in New York
Trying to stay away from federal court, I feel your pain
To my n***as that never would talk
I let you know I send my support
Do your thing!

Now play your part, cousin
It's a pool full of sharks, cousin
Your mind was ready for the world, but your heart wasn't
We all done it, we all wanted the cars and broads from it
These the results of our sure coming
But I ran with four fifth dumpers
You ran with the runners and the tall fence jumpers
All my dogs been gone for six summers
We were stunners, now we're all did numbers
This is for my n***as with all did numbers
That go to the floor and get ganja
f**k a stick, n***a we blow logs of big lumber
There's nothing a hog can get from us
We got four-fours that spit thunder
We kick down doors for quick come ups
Rich or poor, the pigs want us
I'm good in the hood by the store
And I'm on the Fed's bulletin board
n***a, I'm good in the war
'Cause I live by the bullet and sword
And I pull to a n***a, can't pull anymore
They wanna put a tag on my foot in the morgue
'Cause I got wood in the dash and wood in the door
Mink on the floor, you think about yours
While I think about my mans in the clink up north
Let's go!

vídeo de música

Seu nome será publicado. Deixe os campos em branco para permanecer anônimo.