Dutches vs. Phillies vs. Bamboo
Lyrics
Yo, shorty, man yo, I been seeing you, man
For real, man come on, man
Yo, man tell your girl let me sleep with her
Man i give you a thousand grams
He throw blow in lands, hit good pussy up
Kush me up my dough is advanced and rover
With the lambskin coat on
Lighting reefer, my mans and them
We got plans, man
But first show me where the grams went
Ten fold scheme in the doorway
We all the way in now
What they rolling for? We
Blowing them bowling balls
Rifle with the knife on it
Lifers jump right up on it
Maseratis double piping, wrist lightning
I rhyme for the flight men, the drug boys
Thug noise
They want, they come get it from me
It's like done i'm just a scholar with
Some street drug news, plug dudes
No kidnappings, we mug dudes, I love jewels
Might take your man shit
Up in the jam and shit
Listenin' to Eric B & Rakim, plannin' shit
I'm all for the vandal shit, good nights
Bet I got a good gun with
Long bullets and a Taruga light
Come to the palace, chalices
Hood pussy from Dallas
All of this is childish, I allowed this
Rap saved the babies
All these young niggas with these 3-80's
Fronting like they robbed down Macy's
Stop it, we them cockpit boys, we got shit
Plus pop shit
Grab your bird twatty obnoxious
Flashin' knots and shit
Yachts that smell like piss
It's all good, we only fucking in her mouth
Partner the lock men, I rock, was robbing
Met her out in Africa
Yeah, yeah, bought her my Glock
Let me hold that man
We the Dutch Masters the
Blunts with the gun-flashers
Love maxing, watch niggas' last moves
Keep it cool, get those ones
Play the building
Get your run game on, and stay stashin'
We the Dutch Masters the
Blunts with the gun-flashers
Love maxing, watch niggas' last moves
Keep it cool, get those ones
Play the building
Get your run game on, and stay stashin'
Ayo, octopus hands
Flashbacks of the gold Rollie
Shootouts in the liquor store
My man on parole owe me
Old man freedom still preaching on the block
Still talking
You can't sling jumbs and hold a walkman
Fishcale dumped inside the
Quarter water juices
Staircase madness, the hammer stash gooses
Went to time flow
Yo I heard they let Shyne go
Big whip spaces, betting at the horse races
Old school wit it, banging Julio Iglesias
Suaded leather seats, feet reclined
Line back of moves
Homey with the chipped tooth from Faragent
He arrogant did a bid with him
Gave him razors in the church hall
Then he turn Muslim, Jihad to hurt ya'll
Hooligan goon shit, never onto FUBU
Never on computers
Niggas never heard of Google
Mink slippers lounging with
The cashmere headband
Still spending Euro's, Germany, Dresden
Dubai high, drinking all the French water
Champagne yah, my campaign a, macarena
Aim a flamer, his accent was Dana Daner
I mean Dana Dane, distribution crazy 'caine
Elvis sideburns
His appearance always crazy lame
Move big weight though Winnebago
Remind me of Dego, and Jose Canseco
The man in San Diego, that's where he lay low
His soldiers do what he say so
All day though
Yeah, little nigga you gotta respect protocol
That's where you come from homeyboy
Ayo, cigar-niggas Phillies my favorite
Beat the affidavit
That good weed you save it
Run through the alleyways
Ever since the valley days
We been on that New York shit
But smoking Cali haze
Ayo, cigar-niggas Phillies my favorite
Beat the affidavit
That good weed you save it
Run through the alleyways
Ever since the valley days
We been on that New York shit
But smoking Cali haze
Ayo, five grams crushed in a
Bill fold he snorted it
Coke professor, test it before he ordered it
Lamping on a La-Z-Boy, real McCoy
Flick the ashes
Champagne bitches is butt naked
Filling glasses whips with the mean stashes
Ox spitting gun clappers
Onasis money, she fly with the package
Easy Wider rider nigga, I'm a bamboo vandal
Ran through cities, looking for white paper
That rice papers
That bullshit, the back of the Bibles
The light saver
I blow joints to the head, Al Queda raider
Black bandanna, old hammer, phone scrambler
Niggas wearing wires cuz shit bad
Lit on fire
Old school marvels, pardon the middle
Waves bust to the side
Still rocking diddy bop like '85
Them pinky rings, diamond crust
Diors is diamonds dusted, trust it
My niggas rob to rob niggas, so fuck it
Hip hop awards, I was low in them bucket
Blowing kisses at Toya Luckett
Before that I was backstage puffing
For my bamboo niggas lay
Low, playing the benches, relentless
Fresh home from a sentence
You know the rules get your money and move
Blast tools clap dudes
Keep they ear to the streets with tattoos
For my bamboo niggas lay
Low, playing the benches, relentless
Fresh home from a sentence
You know the rules get your money and move
Blast tools clap dudes
Keep they ear to the streets with tattoos
Writer(s): BRADEN CHRISTOPHER ERIC LANG, REUBEN TIMOTHY MORGAN
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Capitol CMG Publishing
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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