Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Devine, artist - D-Block. Album song D-Block CD/DVD Mixtape, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 10.07.2006
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Babygrande
Song language: English
Devine |
Ooh weee, lets get it poppin daddy |
Uh, yea, lets get it poppin mommy |
Ayo the moral of the story is |
We all can’t be gloriest |
Some of us still on our grind (our grind) |
Thats why I walk wit this chrome .9 (I'm fine) |
'Fore who eva want to cross this line Devine |
Ayo Sheek on the street again, they know the big man is back |
But niggas still don’t want to get down wit the heat again |
You see me postin on the block, see these bitches on my cock |
Seein you jumpin out the drop, sombody light up |
I ain’t fuckin wit you homey, you ain’t smokin, you don’t know me |
You can eat from my dutch, I’mma fuck 'em right up |
You can catch me all Nelly in the blue red dully |
Half crip half blood nigga west side |
But you can catch me in New York on stage on the block |
Or even visitin my niggas in the cage (lets ride) |
Its somethin to do, lackin the fool, packin a .2, ok nigga |
Me and my niggas on our New York shit |
Me and my niggas on our West Coast shit |
Me and my niggas on our down South shit |
Yes, Midwest, Bay area |
Lets go, uh |
When niggas see me in the street they be like there go double O again |
He got the .357 set and he 'bout to let it go again |
Switchin up this flow again, grindin up for that dough again |
Your mans in that set trip, I’m 'bout to put a hole in him |
Hands up plus lip, let me see ya’ll niggas bang |
Hit a nigga in his head make 'em come about this chain |
Homey I’m the best at this shit |
I’m the don wit a black mark about to tag up on this shit |
That niggas perpin ya’ll ain’t seen no bricks |
We movin grindin on a new city gettin jacked suckin ain’t no dick |
And you can show if it ain’t no purp-b |
Our buns be color of pookey lips when they gave 'em that turkey |
Been a long time comin, but my time is due |
Everythin is crystal clear but the shines is blue |
Caught away seats in the gray CL |
Wit so many weight in the trunk |
If you don’t chop it the brick scale, nigga! |
Ayo me and my young boy |
Remind me of my self in early days sort of like a young hoy |
Now I’m puffin in the Phantom out in St. Croix |
Blue water two bitches and peep a toy |
But don’t play it sweet, the heat is in the cooler |
And the cooler got no bait for lunch meat |
You done fuck see the morgue |
You ain’t fuckin wit me dawg |
Ayo Hood you ready, bark at your fawg |
Ayo I’m 'bout coastal G |
But I’m 'bout to east coast back where it 'pose to be |
D-Block got the streets in a zip lock |
And we bustin off 'em hammers |
Like we don’t give a fuck 'bout hip-hop |
So who wanna get popped, just give me the word |
It won’t be occasion when I hit his ass wit this bird |
Leave his ass on the curve |
So you can put that yach on 'em |
I’mma make this drug related and leave some crack on 'em |