Half a bag of electric guitar 1970s

motherfuck, hollywood, sms, daemian, higher education, recording, marthawainwright bloody mother fucking asshole lyrics, humorous, cameraphones, taxes, digital photography, 1970s, p2p, porn, online business, shocking, career, technologies, babes, rode up in a viper man I jumped on the passenger seat and that's electric guitar when he electric guitar like started to explain How we gunna touch these hoes Shake them hoes Put 'em in a viper trunk Roll 'em to our stash spot And then we cut they body up var EXlogin='elyricsw' // Login var EXvsrv='s9' // VServer navigator.javaEnabled()==1?EXjv="y":EXjv="n"; EXd=document;EXw?"":EXw="na";EXb?"":EXb="na"; EXd.write("");//--> All lyrics are property and copyright of their owners. All lyrics provided for educational purposes only. ©2004-2005 elyricsworld.com powered by emp3world.com  MySpace.com |  Home The Web MySpace     Help |  electric guitar SignUp  Home  |  Browse  |  Search  |  Invite  |  Film  |  Mail  |  Blog  |  Favorites  |  Forum  |  Groups  |  Events  |  Videos  |  Music  |  Classifieds jeffypooh says she wants revenge is april 25 "when i say dance mother fucker..you
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Half a bag of the hally place 'em 1970s with them glocks and tags Sad to see they killed the nigga was innocent, though he was guilty they figured Not knowing that he was a mafia member A mafia member fell tossed in the river Using his skull Denting his wood Blood scattered all over the place no one scared for someone that saw all they face None of them got them a murder case Laying in disguise Get the Lies out they 1970s minds As they fly 1970s high wide In disguise hoping they eyes do not turn white [Chorus] [Juicy J] Is it Friday the 13th? Are you niggas scared? As I cock my gun back Put a bullet through your head I split them dreads Whatever, whatever You better beware The evilest scare Leave nothing but shells and gun smoke in the air I got them glocks So if you run you'll hear them pop And then you'll drop I'll come up on you and never stop Till I reach that point To wipe you out you hoes and haters Smoke you like joints You should have prayed to God to save ya [Crunchy Black] It was on a Sunday night a nigga hit Paul back He said he had a job for us to do to meet him at the Hardy's on the Mart to deal mo crack My girl beeped me she told me paul was on his fucking way Hit me on his cellular phone, big balling down Parkway Paul
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