Funeral song

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z 0-9

Letra de Funeral song

Sean Price

Lighters in the air
When you bury my body
Please don't bury my soul

[Verse One]:
I flow great (flow great)
I hold weight (hold weight)
Spit hot shit need Colgate
Yo, teeth kinda yellow, don't floss between meals
Cop a watch and whip and floss between deals
Sean P!
I'm 6'1" you all notice him
Shot my first nigga two blocks from Paul Robeson
All over son, you know my team, we all tote a gun
If a nigga sound like me on the mic, cause I wrote it son
Don't ask me shit about Pa I don't roll with him
Just admit, Ruck too much, ain't no controllin' him
God cipher divine, rhyme shine like linoleum
I'm knowin' them niggas can't catch the lines I'm throwin' 'em
Yo, I'm updated duke, state of the art
Motherfuck*** frustrated and I'm takin' ya heart
Dare you to start
Jump up, I'll tear you apart
F*** shittin' bricks my nigga, I dare you to fart
Yo Overall I'm not with this swine dining, and Glock with divine lining
Watch what you say or get popped in your spine rhyming
Go toe to toe and get popped if you mind dying
Then I go cop a watch and top it with fine diamonds
Go put my cock on top of your dime, grinding
Know not to box with Rock you die trying
Go to the spot but the cops be like eyeing (damn)
Go get knocked for the crops and
I don't talk about the coke I got
Most of the coke I got came from folks I shot
I don't give a fuck if you Blood or you Loc a lot
F*** with me you're head'll have a open top
I go to the Vatican with the most potent rocks
The most Colombian shit off the boat and blocks
Tell my man Illa Noyz come and tote the Glock
While I give out samples hope the pope will cop
Listen, Yo Wop-bob-ba-baloo-lop
Bawhap-bam-boom
Cops got a few Glocks and popped Amadou
Put your lighters up Starting to roam
Grab gun, barkin' the chrome
Hold Glock, Globe Trot like Meadowlark in the zone
I ain't trying to be the king, give me part of the throne
Split your shit between Sean Price, Carter and Combs
Oh you dumb ass niggas know I'm smart with the poems
Call your crib, you ain't shit duke, fart on the phone
Send my man in jail some money for a carton of bones
Next time hit off your seed cause he starving at home
Pardon me holmes
Watch what you say I don't play that
Bring the war where y'all niggas shit, shave and bathe at
Weak on the street but when you deep you act brave black
F*** you and your dogs you ain't ready for this stray cat
I'm the nicest rapper niggas asking "Why you say that?"
[Sample: 'Hello!')
I can back it up, slap you up with a grey gat
Flip words faster, I'm the rap Pat Sajak
Vanna White, man I'm hype, duke can you say that?
Listen...

[Hook]

Letra de Funeral Song de Sean Price

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