Shyne - For The Record Lyrics | Shyne Lyrics
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Some information about For The Record Lyrics Title: Shyne - For The Record lyrics Artist: Shyne Album: Godfather Buried Alive Visitors: 7 visitors have visited For The Record Lyrics since Feb 12, 2007. Pshhhh pshhhh Uhh [repeat 3x] [Verse 1] Ohh you rhyme witta slug and sum shots in his face He rhyme witta slug tryna sound like ma$e Listened to his tapethis lil nigga used to sound like cake Maybe I m juss killinmaybe he juss snitchin See a whole lot different when my sales ecliped What I see is straight bugstraight thoro Yea he be a killayou kill wit bugs Rather look at the facts not the hype Like who got shot and who got knifed Who keep gettin struckbut don t neva strike Hope the beef go away but the feds indict I know yo card niggait s so clear You juss wanna sell record you don t want warfare You don t wanna ride you wanna get rich and hide These niggaz would ve died if they shot me nine times Heyy it s juss for the best Take this mob shit seriouseplease respect it [Hook] And there go the shots stay rippin em apart Cuz it s a blood comin outta his slum It s murdah bloody homicide is what they cry When they losin their life When muhfuckaz ax me how I sleep at night Pretty cold witta slug might heat me tight Pray to god while I m goneis what underneath feels like It s my work by the surf when they turn off the lights [Verse 2] You ain t kill humma cause if you did Why you ain t get the pen after all of that hit You know I knowthat if you live That shit that you spitsomebody got somebody Somebody got jumpedsomebody got cut Yoo pac s a nigganobody got shot Nobody got flushedyou screamin what what Okay okay killa you sa slut Think about itenoughs enoughs I m tryna show em whoes who And what is what I mean how can I respect you When them niggaz that left you ain t none of em blessed you not nobody You know where they arewhere they perform Bust yo gunstop makin songs Please no more ghetto quran You got money now it s time to bomb And that s juss fo the top Take this mob shit seriouse please respect it And there go the shots stay rippin em apart [2x] Cuz it s a blood comin outta his slum [Verse 3] Death of perfection as I move witout motion Ain t no nigga in his game doin the shit that I m quotin Take a good look cause you ll neva a see enought of me Might be sum otha g s tryna trace n color me But I believe in the ways of old Slice these niggaz throat tryna tell on po That shouldn t excistfuckin snitch Cut of his dickput it on his lips You really think I was gon let you slide Fuckin wit me you must be outcho mind You really think jail was gon make thinks right Nigga I will shoot you till you lose yo life I was mindin my ownword got backniggaz talkin bout po I was like ohhgod must be ready fo this nigga to go I ain t lyin this is the mob You got yo break come finish yo job Juss don t get the feds involved And I mma reunite you wit yo moms Rip I guess this ain t juss music Cuz jail only made me much mo ruthless nigga And the bitch nigga knew this That s why he tryed to sign me to g-unit Tell em how you made me offers I don t want that blood I mma godfather Jumped on every street corner Hurts yo heart that you don t get that honor The feds I paid fo that 10 years up top I sell em much shop Both of ya was blood Took the bus wit cuz Want gun fo gun I earned my lug Youyou juss pathetic You neva bgbespite yo average Take this mob shit serioueyou gon respect it Tha s juss fo the record [Hook] And there go the shots stay rippin em apart Cuz it s a blood comin outta his slum It s murdah bloody homicide is what they cry When they losin their life When muhfuckaz ax me how I sleep at night Pretty cold witta slug might heat me tight Pray to god while I m goneis what underneath feels like It s my work by the surf when they turn off the light Hottest songs from Shyne : Fans who visit this lyrics also like: |
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