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0-10 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z Home |
| Lyrics Submitted By: Mr. Corn rolls |
| Chorus: |
| Don't fuck, don't fuck with the braids! |
| Can't fuck, can't fuck with the braids! |
| Don't fuck, don't fuck with the braids! |
| Ya can't fuck, you can't fuck with the braids! (Barking) |
| You can't stop me! How then? |
| Watch me! Watch me! Ain't gonna be no congress |
| Drop me, you can't block me, who stop me? Its outside! |
| You should've known better! |
| Is it cause I flow better? |
| They kept me in the shade |
| But now I'm back motherfucker, the nigga with the cannon for two |
| Swinging with the braids! |
| Repeat Chorus |
| 504! The doe man, got dogs in when the rhymes go bad |
| Make ink on the page, catch flame |
| Lit light like propane |
| No sweat, no blood, no pain, no game |
| No card, no deal, no dice, no game |
| Giving these bitches somethin vicious! |
| I got them falling to pieces, like porcelain dishes |
| I'm dirty! |
| I get all the way down on the ground |
| And just wonder, memorize, take a picture, write a book |
| I don't give a fuck! |
| I man supply, ground ripper! |
| I'm here, lay down and give it up! |
| Nigga you ain't gonna leave me out my entrance (out my entrance) |
| Count a hundred thousand pennies, every sentence! |
| Buddatt, buddatt, buddatt! Get back! |
| What's happening? |
| I rip cracks and pop tapes |
| I'm so hot they just gotta rock what I spray |
| The type of guy that write what I say! |
| I'm so wild, cause I'm round where them crocodiles play! |
| (Can't be none there) I make you say, ow, give it to me (step it up!) |
| Don't be that way I'm tearing ya, cause they tell ya with da music! |
| I been doing this shit, how to train em', how to use em'! |
| I'm a gangsta, better pop up respect |
| Take a piece of lectum |
| Maximum effect ya! |
| But eclectic, ground perfected! |
| It just don't get no colder, bet you if I won't effect it. |
| Y'all niggas couldn't pop a rubber band |
| You fucking with the man! |
| Repeat Chorus |
| Bitch bout 55, got damn it! |
| Get into it, get off, get down, get cross, get tied! |
| For my Million (son) and my Michelle (daughter), |
| my mama, and my brother, and my nephew, and myself! |
| The man upstairs, cause I kept it up, |
| for my niggas, and my rounds, back down |
| Bout to step it up (step it up) |
| Put in some cash and some Outkast beats. |
| Hop behind the wheel and come out from the fucking backseat! |
| Michael Tyler! Rhyme and droating driver, miracle rip plier! |
| The fast hold desire! On fire, reach a flyer, ain't nobody lie! |
| Starting them out of a team, city of Seam, |
| with 100 suckers and a busta! |
| And I'm still clean! Hollering hiya! |
| Right before I chop you in your throat! |
| Another rapper say I'm on my way |
| To get the fucking hat and coat, and hit the motherfucking door! |
| You can't stop me! How then? |
| Just watch me, watch me! |
| Ain't gonna be no calling congress! |
| You can't drop me, you can't block me, who stop me? |
| Its outside |
| You should've known better! |
| Is it cause I flow better? They kept me in the shade |
| But now I'm back motherfuckers, |
| the nigga with the cannon for the two |
| Swinging with the braids! |
| Repeat Chorus |
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