Print

KE on the Track No Ceilings Ah... O—OK I got this chrome on this Bugatti, I'm strong in this Bugatti Two V8s, ain't no such thing as driving calm in this Bugatti Bitch, I’m bad, I'm worse, I'll pass the purp Don't fuck with me 'cause right now, I'm higher than Captain Kirk I swear, I be the sickest nigga, you can ask the nurse And if you throw it in a bag I bet I'll snatch her purse OK, I spaz, I curse; you last, I'm first I'm on your ass, like dirt; behind that cash, get murked I'm talking big shit, nigga, join my hit list, nigga What's the matter? Check your bladder, I'm the shit, piss, nigga Shoot the witness, nigga Hold court in the streets and convict this nigga Ol' dickless nigga Man, I'm running with the blocka, Young Money, motherfucker You think we gon' do our thing? Well, ain't it sunny in the summer? And we coming for the commas, and whoever among us And you know I'ma bust my ass until my crew very humongous I said, T.I., hold your head, and Mack, hold your head Wish I could but I can't say some other names 'cause of the Feds And to my Bloods, code red, man, you know how we play it And if it costs to be the boss, oh well, I guess I gotta pay Letras de cancionesI—I'm a New Orleans nigga, I don't take no shit Take the brain off the whip; now, it don't make no sense Stunt hard on these bitches, I ain't promised tomorrow Now, women kicking it with me like Nomar Garciaparra Fuq' roll them killer plants, the Little Shop of Horror And we roll them bitches thick, make 'em look like Tocrra Man, I'm too much for these niggas and three much for these hoes The world is in my hands, and I keep my hands closed I love my baby mamas, they get my highest honor Gotta take care of them kids, man, I know you heard Obama And I live on an island, Atlantic in my backyard I just tell my pilot to land it in my backyard Quarterback, shotgun, you don’t get any sack yards Bitch, I ball hard, breaking all the backboards Pretty Boy Floyd, step up, I will crack yours And even at the White House, we pull up at the back doors Walk around like I'm 30 feet tall Tiger Woods, all these hoes tryna birdy these balls In the Porsche 911, like emergency calls Man, I just be chilling, I'm cool like Lou Rawls Young Money in the building, I'm putting up new walls Nigga take your Mrs. Officer and set some new laws My flow is like rubbing two logs Young Mula, we the new shit, new drawers, ugh Now, get off my dick, I ain't fucking with you Watch me shoot to the bank, I'm a money pistol Weezy beat the beat up like Sonny Liston Redbone do me good, then her friend assist her I mean, a bitch she never met, her best friend, or sister I leave the pussy micro-soft like Windows Vista Young Tunechi, pop that coochie for a goon, ho Bullet in you boys' memory, now you act like you don't know Eastside who I do it for, Eagle Street, right by the store Katrina wiped the city out but couldn't fuck with Hollygrove Lost some real niggas I knew from a long time ago But Heaven or Hell, I'm hoping that they be where I'ma go Take a nigga gal and make her come give me a private show Still "long hair, don't care" like a Navajo I'm the hardest shit, go in your ass and search I smash this verse, and I swag and surf No Ceilings! Hahahaha! From Letras Mania