It make me happy, you know what I mean?
Like all these years of rapping other motherf**kers songs
Your own Songs, and its like oh I really am this!
You know what im saying? Its crazy!
We here to stick up the crowd put your hands up high!
But we aint robbing you tonight so why your hands in the Sky?
Cause we got that heat while they speak nothing but lies
They told me I won the prize and I wasn't surprised
Gather all the profits up and add em up quickly
Im taxing on the block so you can add a buck fifty
I love hip hop Like Dwayne wayne loved Whitley
Im hot if you believe it or not just ask ripleys!
Like my pollo a la brassa and my Platanos crispy
My dogs fetch for me I don't have to throw Frisbees
Just give em a whistle and my pits is gone sick U
And rip your flesh to the bone and nibble the gristle!
My haters wanna cry somebody give em a tissue
They Swear they getting dough but money isn't the issue
Don't make me rhyme on the beat with rhythm and diss ya
Imma school ya don't leave yet I didn't dismiss u!
My og said for weed brownies he'd give me a pistol!
But I don't Wanna shoot ya, A St. George aint gone kill ya
But if u get too close I may filet ya and grill ya
I'm known to keep a Shank so please don't make me spill ya
Cause all I wanna do is uplift ya and build ya
But ask nip about it
Ask Bloods and crips about it
As we have a drink, I take a sip and feel sick about it
A St. George - Hands Up High (First Verse) Lyrics
A St. George - Hands Up High (First Verse) Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
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It make me happy, you know what I mean?
Like all these years of rapping other motherf**kers songs
Your own Songs, and its like oh I really am this!
You know what im saying? Its crazy!
We here to stick up the crowd put your hands up high!
But we aint robbing you tonight so why your hands in the Sky?
Cause we got that heat while they speak nothing but lies
They told me I won the prize and I wasn't surprised
Gather all the profits up and add em up quickly
Im taxing on the block so you can add a buck fifty
I love hip hop Like Dwayne wayne loved Whitley
Im hot if you believe it or not just ask ripleys!
Like my pollo a la brassa and my Platanos crispy
My dogs fetch for me I don't have to throw Frisbees
Just give em a whistle and my pits is gone sick U
And rip your flesh to the bone and nibble the gristle!
My haters wanna cry somebody give em a tissue
They Swear they getting dough but money isn't the issue
Don't make me rhyme on the beat with rhythm and diss ya
Imma school ya don't leave yet I didn't dismiss u!
My og said for weed brownies he'd give me a pistol!
But I don't Wanna shoot ya, A St. George aint gone kill ya
But if u get too close I may filet ya and grill ya
I'm known to keep a Shank so please don't make me spill ya
Cause all I wanna do is uplift ya and build ya
But ask nip about it
Ask Bloods and crips about it
As we have a drink, I take a sip and feel sick about it
Like all these years of rapping other motherf**kers songs
Your own Songs, and its like oh I really am this!
You know what im saying? Its crazy!
We here to stick up the crowd put your hands up high!
But we aint robbing you tonight so why your hands in the Sky?
Cause we got that heat while they speak nothing but lies
They told me I won the prize and I wasn't surprised
Gather all the profits up and add em up quickly
Im taxing on the block so you can add a buck fifty
I love hip hop Like Dwayne wayne loved Whitley
Im hot if you believe it or not just ask ripleys!
Like my pollo a la brassa and my Platanos crispy
My dogs fetch for me I don't have to throw Frisbees
Just give em a whistle and my pits is gone sick U
And rip your flesh to the bone and nibble the gristle!
My haters wanna cry somebody give em a tissue
They Swear they getting dough but money isn't the issue
Don't make me rhyme on the beat with rhythm and diss ya
Imma school ya don't leave yet I didn't dismiss u!
My og said for weed brownies he'd give me a pistol!
But I don't Wanna shoot ya, A St. George aint gone kill ya
But if u get too close I may filet ya and grill ya
I'm known to keep a Shank so please don't make me spill ya
Cause all I wanna do is uplift ya and build ya
But ask nip about it
Ask Bloods and crips about it
As we have a drink, I take a sip and feel sick about it
Writer: Aubyn Allen
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid