| «I have lived my life… I have dreamed my dreams
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| Now death, take me away»
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| Ayo my raps are like the facts of life
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| We are less alike
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| You’re raps are dike, just like the cast of Facts of Life
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| Let me cast a light
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| Shed it even
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| I don’t give a fuck about getting even
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| Cause if I did I’d be in the crib in a Posture'
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| Monster, underneath the bed you’re sleeping
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| Drink 'til I’m real real wildly
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| Grab a pen can’t stop me
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| Fuck around re-write Kill Bill
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| Have it with Uma Thurman and Bill Cosby
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| Have a puddy puddy pop in his asshole
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| Make him pop pills, wake up buck naked
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| Ass up, pants tied with his mouth all faced
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| Found in the ground in a sandcastle
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| I’m a motherfucking master, ask the body
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| No asterisk, I’ll body bag somebody
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| So acrobatic, I’ll bet you’re acrobotic, Inspector Gadget
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| Go-Go Robo Bo Jackson body
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| Never been a better metaphor four slinger
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| Show me a beat I ain’t a four four king of
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| And I’ll fork over a four course dinner
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| I’m gonna put four little holes in a foe denim
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| You keep closing the suitcase bitch
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| I keep doe in a suitcase bitch
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| Two identicals, do a suitcase switch
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| Pay me your Adrian Peterson switch
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| Maybe get rich
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| Eat at Gibson’s on a Tuesday lunch
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| Got a hunch Tuesday you’ll be at the Liquor Boy Towne Center every Tuesday
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| brunch
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| Now I lay me down to sleep
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| Bad bitch laying right next to me
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| Sexing me, wake up, beat that pussy with my diamond teeth
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| These niggas be downing me
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| These hoes should be crowning me
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| Crowning me, G.I. |
| nigga
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| Church/crack house niggas both down the streets
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| Which one you gon' run to? |
| How much bread can he run through?
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| Digging in the muhfucking pack, man you can’t make back what the dope man front
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| you
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| homicide is what it come to
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| Black masks when we come through
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| 12 gauge hit him in his ribs cause a motherfucker did what a nigga can’t undo
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| Bloody murder, murder
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| Nah, nah can’t take that back
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| Fuck the Feds I won’t tell 'em shit, go to my grave with that
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| Homeboy wanna go half on a brick, yeah yeah I stay with that
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| Had some snitches slip through the clique
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| Might bring my pager back
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| I don’t know why these niggas be downing me
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| These hoes should be crowning me
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| Cop a pound, half a pound, quarter pound, an ounce from me
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| Bought a bitch a pair of J’s, she’s bagging dope and count for me
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| New Jack City with the titties out
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| Turn around and see what this dick about
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| Gibbs |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Suit Case Switch , by - Freddie Gibbs. Song from the album Anesthesia, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп