Kishore Kumar Hits

The St Petra Russian Symphony Orchestra - German Dance No. 8 lyrics

Artist: The St Petra Russian Symphony Orchestra

album: Haydn German Dances No. I - XII


Everybody stand up
Flush is the man so let the grams cut
One shot in ya butt, my guns never tucked
Don't want a slut, finessed by the art of the cut
Like Harlem World i'm doublin' up
Feds wanna challenge us
Off balance with silencers, locked up for calenders
Made men reversed my life, started again
Gone in the wind, respect niggas rhyming ten
Stuck on the grind, with two nines hugging ya spine
Addicted to crime, new car sitting on two dimes
With two dime, New York niggas, we love shine
Whether it's yours or mine by the night yours is mine
That's shilling week anyway, fuck it, it's more shine
I'm 24, your part time you ain't killing niggas
Walking round and grilling niggas
Acting like we ain't feeling niggas
Pop bottle, roll with gorillas and breed drug dealers
North, South, East to West ya'll gonna feel us
Word, we getting a job
Hustle up, double up
Cheddar starts kid, get that cheddar large
Pedal Hard, and daily par
Sky's the limit, die for this shit
Living at
Right to the top baby!
Fuck them other cats I'm running with my own wolfpack
Keep fronting like you'se a thug and get your dome pushed back
Coz you don't get down that tough shit you talk is profound
You'se a clown
Fuck around, come up town and get found
I keep a pocket full, none of you niggas can touch my funds
I don't fight no more all I do is bust my guns
While you home relaxed i'm squeezin' Macs busting off caps
Those coward cats with all their platinum plaques get taxed
And I do Jooks, and slang Pies to make cream rise
It's all about these green guys, front your whole team dies
How I'm. Living so far? Swell you can't scar L
Headed to cartel, selling more cakes than carvel
And I'm, labeled a kind thug, police got my line bugged
Hope I see the grave, more age and not a nine slug
I'm quick to bust a mean nut in some teen slut
Big L is clean cut, with more jewels than King Tut
Word, we getting a job
Hustle up, double up
Cheddar starts kid, get that cheddar large
Pedal Hard, and daily par
Sky's the limit, die for this shit
Living at
Right to the top baby!
You know it's, dough for hoes
Bank rolls, Rovers and clothes
And shots blow all them cowards and foes
Giacanna proud with the pros, foul mode
We quick reachers, spear with the fearless til you drip liters
Flip divas, them chicks, eager to strip to they tits and beaver
Sip Cris' and sniff coke off the beater
Yeah we ball big baby, look off the meter
You should see us, it's movie star status
Scar lackers lost cabbage, drip the Pablo Escobar fabrics
Froze the road we chose, not a pretty route, let it out
Grimey and grittied out, stack dough, jiggy out
Dime bitches behavin like ya sex slave skizzied out
Some nigga dizzy south, til he's out, busy mouth
Swerve to the curb, hit the bird split the kitties out
We kidnap for trap blackmail for a gang a mill
Spot banger himself, fishscale rocks under the fingernails
The blood trail lead to a corpse
Treat my appetite for greed with a torch
For keys to a Porsche, to breeze in the loft
Roll up my hand sheets with the force
We squeeze off, no need for remorse, playa
Forty wild goons, we forty Calhouns
You die forty foul dooms for forty coward moves
Bless sparkle, and spark until my shorty style rules
Giancanna dead? Widespread, I'll be a 40 mile tune baby
Word, we getting a job
Hustle up, double up
Cheddar starts kid, get that cheddar large
Pedal Hard, and daily par
Sky's the limit, die for this shit
Living at
Right to the top baby!
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