Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song This Goes Out, artist - Murphy Lee. Album song Murphy's Law, in the genre ПопDate of issue: 31.12.2002
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Universal Music
Song language: English
This Goes Out |
| Uh, Yeah |
| Ohh-Ohh |
| What we have herre? |
| Uh, Yeah |
| Ooohh |
| Uh, Yeah |
| Ooohh |
| This goes out to my Midwest crew |
| Now hold ya M-Dub in the airr if ya feel me Fuck em all day, fuck em all night |
| Candy paint on d’s and fo’s |
| Yo, Ayyo I eat, sleep, shit, rap |
| Hip-Hop, kid and nap |
| Snoop Dogg 'Lac wit the diamond in the back |
| I rep it like a mayor mayn |
| Summin like a playa mayn |
| St. Louis cookin’and I’m Murphy Lee the killer mayn |
| Hunt someone and lick em, make em salaam |
| Praise the Lord or say peace to God |
| I’m just a Skool Boy, call me Mr. Do-What-You-Do-Fool |
| Claim where you from or we will claim where you move to Home is where you make it, eat a meal and get naked |
| You could, walk in yo drawers and nobody could say shit |
| I got STL tatted on my right arm, some of em saw em I aint dyin'but yo I'm definitely fight for em And keep it tight for em, and keep it hype for em And buy at the bar whatever gon keep the night |
| goin |
| Do what you do and you do it, just do it big |
| And if you live to get it then you gon get it how you live cuz. |
| This goes out to my West Coast crew |
| Now hold ya Dub up in the airr if ya feel me Fuck em all day, fuck em all night |
| Hit the switch on yo six fo’s |
| Naps, rock, skit |
| West Coast style t-shirt, khaki lack |
| Swerve in the Cadillac |
| Young Roscoe, the black Burt Bacharach |
| serve the sacks, flippin skirts like acrobats |
| And I dip wit you nigga, I take you on a ride |
| Through that place known worldwide |
| It’s the Westside. |
| Chronic, Daytons, switches, dubs |
| Cap turned to the back wit skirts at the Caddy shack |
| Los Angeles where they sag to the mud |
| Drop the back let it drag, du rags full of thugs |
| Ya hard to the back, car full of «blat» |
| Why A’s decay, we way hard ok? |
| I rock a 5 double O wit the bubble nose |
| Stop, drop the top I holla at a couple hoes |
| Fo sho they wanna roll wit the Philly fanatic |
| Runnin’the radio in Cali cuz I stay in the traffic |
| This goes out to my East Coast crew |
| Now hold ya E’s up in the airr if ya feel me Fuck em all day, fuck em all night |
| Rock ya hoodies and Timbo’s |
| Yo, Yo, step in the party like. |
| Sippin’on Bacardi like. |
| I hooked up wit the 'Tics they like… |
| It’s gettin’frisky for me Girls, they strippin for me Lil’Jon you wit us homey? |
| (Okay) |
| I gettin brain and, pimpin’I cant complainin' |
| It’s crazy I can’t explain it, it’s the Derrty Entertainment |
| Man, I like to stop and go, she like to mop and glow |
| Lovin’this track cuz we gonna rock and roll |
| I huff and puff until my indo’s gone |
| So I, get to stompin’wit my Timbo’s on We might be floppin’homey, we all critic |
| Welcome to Harlem World A.K. |
| New York City |
| We forever runnin’round, here forever creepin' |
| Up all night cuz homey we aint never sleepin' |
| I came to do this wit my derrty Murphy |
| Y’all niggas betta obey, cuz you can get it. |
| (Okay) |
| This goes out to my Dirty South crew |
| Now hold ya S up in the airr if ya feel me Fuck em all day, fuck em all night |
| If ya tempted to throw them bows |
| Get yo hands up bitch |
| Throw you goddamn click up — |
| We gon drink a fifth of hen |
| And we gon rock it to this bitch — |
| We represent that Dirty |
| We aint expectin’no shit — |
| We wild out in the club |
| Same click we don’t give a fuck — |
| Lil’Weezy, fuckin’Baby, 5'4"fo' |
| 4−5 make a nigga go. |
| (Ooooh) |
| I’m a fly young nigga, ho South cold’s great |
| Stay low when get cake, oh. |
| Yeah, me no play we can take it outside |
| Never met a nigga take myself pride |
| It’s Wizzy Wizzle, Southside guy |
| Outside fly, gutta gutta in the South, wild 5 |
| I represent that Money |
| I aint scared to throw my click up Soon as I throw it high up, holla back, Squire |
| I’m screwed up I drive slow not fast |
| Birdman Jr. I got stones not cash, bitch |
| I’m from the swamp I smoke dro not grass |
| P.O.C. |
| rolled on my hands, got a 90 degree fo’in my pants |
| Give you this respect |
| I’m still mackin', you can smell the Pimp Juice on my breath |
| Get yo hands up bitch |
| Throw you goddamn click up — |
| We gon drink a fifth of hen |
| And we gon rock it to this bitch — |
| We represent that Dirty |
| We aint expectin’no shit — |
| We wild out in the club |
| Same click we don’t give a fuck — |