Print

Yeah (Space Rabbit) Yeah-yeah (Yeah) Yeah-yeah (Space Rabbit push a space coupe straight out of Monaco, yeah) I pray the choppa never jam on me, yeah I pray the Lord puts his hands on me (Yeah), yeah-yeah I pray the choppa never jam .30-30 in my hands DEA and detective done got me cuffed on that ambulance Nigga ain't no solvin' no murders, welcome to Murderland Send a hit and scratch off a hit, bitch, I'm the murder man Pray the Lord puts his hands on me And I know I took a risk with this shit when I put my hands on it All my enemies watchin', they plot and plan on me They gon' end up one of them dead homies 'Cause how can a nigga stand on it when it ain't the truth? Pussy niggas ran on me when it's time to shoot Motherfuck a friend, get them bitches out my crew I know you wouldn't fuck with me if I didn't have no loot 'Cause I'm the one that push a hard line Tell me what niggas know about hard times Empty stomach get you the heart to go do a homicide I know some bitch niggas that snitch, niggas on my side Still a rich nigga with mob ties Letras de canciones'Cause, nigga, we was locked in Me and six of my niggas in one apartment We was pushin' that molly, powder and hard ten Back when bitches, they used to play with my heart then Police might shoot me and kill me over my dark skin Man, this game got me dark-hearted Smoke a chain like a alcoholic, don't get me started I thought we was gon' thug it out to the end But I guess that shit just wasn't on the plans I pray this choppa never jam .30-30 in my hands Shoot him if he ain't DOA, we shoot up the ambulance Nigga ain't no solvin' no murders, welcome to Murderland Bulletproof my shit, they might hit it, bitch, I'm the murder man Dead nigga put his hands on me I might pop another bottle and pour one out for your dead homie Swear my friends turnin' fed on me (Bitch) Man, they pussy niggas, might take a stand on me But how can a nigga stand on it when it ain't the truth? Pussy niggas ran on me when it's time to shoot She think I'm her man, baby, I'm just knockin' boots I know you wouldn't fuck with me if I didn't have no loot 'Cause I'm the one that push a hard line Tell me what bitches know about hard times Empty stomach get you the heart to go do a homicide Know some bitch niggas that snitch, niggas on my side Still a rich nigga with mob ties 'Cause, nigga, we was locked in Me and six of my niggas in one apartment We was pushin' that molly, powder and hard ten Back when bitches, they used to play with my heart then Police might shoot me and kill me over my dark skin Man, this game got me dark-hearted Smoke a chain like a alcoholic, don't get me started I thought we was gon' thug it out to the end But I guess that shit just wasn't on the plans I pray this choppa never jam (Uh, yeah-yeah) I pray this choppa never jam (Yeah-yeah) I pray this choppa never jam on me (Yeah-yeah) I pray the Lord puts his hands on me (Yeah-yeah) I pray this choppa never jam I pray this choppa never jam (Yeah-yeah) I pray this choppa never jam on me (Yeah-yeah) I pray the Lord puts his hands on me (Yeah-yeah) From Letras Mania