paroles de chanson / Lil Wayne parole / Get 'Em Off Me lyrics  | ENin English

Paroles de Get 'Em Off Me

Interprète Lil Wayne

Paroles de la chanson Get 'Em Off Me par Lil Wayne lyrics officiel

Get 'Em Off Me est une chanson en Anglais

That mac-10 will get them off me
Head shots, he still talking

You try to run up on Lil Wayne
I let you hold the slug
The can opener, will make your jug open up
I'm probly in the crib baking Up, rolling up
Cause I'm a nut wit the coke, call me coconut
Bet I smack em wit the tooly
Tell em straighten up
I'm from the murder capital
You niggas baby butt
You baby mutts get the fuck, I ain't a dog
I'm a Boss Hogg, shout out to Slim Thugga'
Pussy's spraying
That's a shot to ya brim youngin'
I'm so Cash Money, right out the rim brotha
Not out to get nothing but bread, I said I am
Not out to get nothing but bread, I said I
Slide out the whip
Looking like a million bucks
Don't touch bet this fucking full
Clip fill ya up
Hollygrove in this bitch blocka block
Make the chef pull the stove off the hip
Cook em up

That mac-10 will get them off me
Head shots, he still talking

If I was to let the barrel spin
None of you niggas be standing
I pull this burner out my drawers
You gonna piss in ya panties
On the block as a younging
I was working that jelly
Knew fat niggas kept bundles
Under their belly
I’m a motherfucking Young Money
A motherfucking Cash Money
Millionaire, Cash money Machiavelli
They say dress to kill
But I look better at it ready for anything
It's covered like spaghetti
I’m a nice young d-boy baby
I digest your man like a t-bone baby
Keep on I got the heat on 80
At 90 I’m shooting, at 100 I’m blazin
Concrete jungle the wild-life pavement
That’s my life, my life, my life baby
Don’t get caught up in the twilight craze
Or you'll be just another highlight baby

That mac-10 will get them off me
Head shots, he still talking

Before I had my aim i still had a pistol
Missing ya whole chest
Hitting ya whole temple
Like 95, 96 getting it in the rental
So short I had to sit on a pillow
Let the whole quaker sit on the griddle
Cook em up and shoot em out like missiles
Boot em up and call em out like bitches
They ain't nothing but bitches
They ain't fucking with this shit
They swinging and missing
My angle is different, they ain’t seeing me
Look into my music
That’s the window to my soul
See the g in me
Long hair all black like Easy-E
Little nigga got smack like the DvD
Click-clack sound sweet to me
Pap pap you look asleep to me
(what you saying)
Click-clack sound sweet to me
Pap pap you look sleep to me good night

That mac-10 will get them off me
Head shots, he still talking
Droits parole : paroles officielles sous licence Lyricfind respectant le droit d'auteur.
Reproduction des paroles interdite sans autorisation.

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