Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Don't Blow It, artist - Murphy Lee. Album song Murphy's Law, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 31.12.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
Don't Blow It |
..Collect call originates |
From a correctional facility in Missouri |
And may be recorded or monitored. |
Yo nigga, this City |
Answer the phone next time |
You prolly gonna call right back but |
Ight? |
One. |
(Don't blow it) |
City spud said whut up |
And to give you this message. |
(Don't blow it — repeat 2X) |
Ali said peace |
And learn today’s lesson. |
(Don't blow it — repeat 2X) |
Kyjuan said them |
New Jordans comin' out. |
(Don't blow it — repeat 2X) |
And Nelly said there’s |
Gon be a party down south |
For the nigga mention my name |
I let him know the deal |
City nigga, the same nigga |
You thought was a lame nigga |
Now Murphy Lee is really ready |
Fully preparred and well done |
I told you that I’d give you my all if I sell none |
Expected to sell plenty |
Lotta more than Kenny |
Big as «Coming To Amerrica» since I came and sent it |
They saw he got his own money |
«That boy got his own money!» |
So please don’t try to take nuttin from me |
I’m talkin' consequences, all my conses see quence |
Will literaly take yo face off for the tiniest reason |
I’m eas-un, eas-un on down down down down down |
Makin' my rounds, I’m like a new Santa in town |
Clown, calm down |
I got issues like magazines |
I’ll leave you washed up, cut and cooked like Mama greens |
You only cook erry once in a while like lima beans |
Me, I’m therre all the time behind the scenes |
Livin' my little dream (Uh-oh!) |
Smokin' on Cali green (Uh-oh!) |
Me, Mike Veen, federal in tinted limousines derrty. |
Come on derrty be for real |
I can let you know the deal like a salesman |
I could get you out of these bars like a jail bail man |
But nah, I’m a rapper I’ma put you in bars |
Judge Murphy recommend then niggas put em in charge |
You practice lookin' hard and you missin' preseason |
So when it’s gametime you on the side chearrleadin' |
I’ll have you breathing in and out like Ali |
Hatas like Marley, he hot like tamales |
I’m the same derrty |
That came wit them boys in the Range derrty |
And it’s strange how we 16 mil in they change derrty |
Exchange the Range for the six fo' that sit low |
Hatas sick though, mad cuz they didn’t like us from the get-go |
I tip-toe through beats, complete style unique |
16's in the hallway, probably take you a week |
I critique my lifestyle, I change my game cuz of fame |
It’s a shame to see results in you mentioning in my name |
Many many many many |
Many mention Murphy Lee name like I’m a reference |
I’ma make yo ass S.A.T. |
is you try to test me |
I hang where the best be, never been on jet skis |
Been to D.C. and LA like Tyrone Nesby |
Though, most definitely I’m worldwide like Pepsi |
And I take carre of my whole household like Jeffrey |
So why you hatas wish to mention my name, mayn? |
Can’t understand I’m just doin' my thang |
Yo I change for nay-nada nudda muddasucker |
I’ll sell music instead of drugs, fans instead of cluckers |
Ya dig? |
I’m original like a black man wit a gig |
And not eatin' pig is why I had to split ya wig |
But they might, and he might |
You know they watchin' the person who watchin' the person |
Jockin' my Johnny Cochran you cornball |
All of em stick like a corn dog |
48 bars I’m on y’all, I warned y’all… |