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CLuBBin
IP: 4577 CD9A
holla at me in the club,when you see me sippin bottles of bub//
you can find me gettin love,in the pool or the tub// im only 14 and im into the Party// lookin fo a mami's,thats a hottie,and inta gettin naughty// i creep around the bar money flashin my earns// i see dj clue and flex fuckin scracthin the turns// the party dont start till the momen im drunk// cuz if im not ripped then the partys just junk// i been hit in the face by haters,but i dont limp or slouch// im chillin like 50cent rollin trees on the couch// the partie dont stop till im off the bottle// then its in to the escelade,shiftin the throttle// but untill the party'z over im sippin the Cris// murdering my victims when im spittin like this// ill prolly end up inna prison cell,invisioning jail// with out bail,cuz my lifes been nuttin but livin hell// i see 50 in the corner bobbin heads to the beat// then i see eminem on the stage spittin nuttin but heat// i chill wit ladies on my lap,a doo rag and ball cap// wit a jersey and pants dressed to rap// i stomp around in my air force// like i gave fucking shoes to air ports// when we clubbin we spill bub,and the cris floods far// holla at a playa when you see me,BLOODSTAR... |
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.-.Marxism.-.
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IP: 314D 9C9C
ay... you contradict yourself there...
holla at me in the club,when you see me sippin bottles of bub// you can find me gettin love,in the pool or the tub// im only 14 and im into the Party// lookin fo a mami's,thats a hottie,and inta gettin naughty// i creep around the bar money flashin my earns// i see dj clue and flex fuckin scracthin the turns// the party dont start till the momen im drunk// cuz if im not ripped then the partys just junk// i been hit in the face by haters,but i dont limp or slouch// im chillin like 50cent rollin trees on the couch// the partie dont stop till im off the bottle// then its in to the escelade,shiftin the throttle// but untill the party'z over im sippin the Cris// now that sounds like you be having fun and then you go and post ill prolly end up inna prison cell,invisioning jail// with out bail,cuz my lifes been nuttin but livin hell// thug styles getting old... but still a dope rhyme... keep at it |
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