Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Lehhhgooo (Clean) , by - N.O.R.E.. Release date: 12.03.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Lehhhgooo (Clean) |
| Y’all know what it is |
| I sneak up in the club |
| I got that ratchet on me |
| You don’t want me to bug |
| You know what niggas call me |
| They call me superthug |
| And if a nigga act up, I let go me a slug |
| Lehgo, lehgo, lehgo |
| Lehgo, lehgo, lehgo |
| Lehgo, lehgo, lehgo |
| Lehgo, lehgo, lehgo |
| Fast car, top down |
| Do she know how I like it? |
| Top down |
| Red top, red bottoms |
| What up with J.B. |
| The feds try to ride em |
| Guacamole, my pistol-I |
| Kick niggas in they face, soccer goalie |
| Uh huh, I’m kinda feeling myself |
| No E-pill or nothin' but I’m feelin myself |
| Yup, Southpaw awkward, left hand slapbox |
| Them bitches whip soft toys, matchbox |
| And I be good on them back blocks |
| I’m old school with the drop tops and rag tops |
| Brought the cash boy, iPads and laptops |
| I got the hammer there, still in the stash box |
| I stand tall, youngins look up to me |
| And OGs got love, they fuck with me |
| Somebody walked up and told me Nore shot somebody |
| So I shot him and turned up my Rakim |
| Sped off, black Lincoln sittin' on stock rims |
| Under black tint Cincinnati cock brim |
| You know my flavor nigga, pull out your razor nigga |
| Let 'em slice me once then I’m a blaze a nigga |
| Taste your blood like 45 minutes after Mayweather lace his gloves fighting |
| Pacquiao |
| And all you little new niggas jockin' styles |
| Just to pack a crowd, I come through acting wild |
| Dressed in all black, blacker than a black and mild |
| Blowing on that sour diesel, fuck yeah my jacket loud |
| My bitches scream, my tires screech |
| I bust guns and I wire teeth |
| Hurricane and N.O.R.E |
| Can’t live with us then put us where God be |
| You’re like a Flocka calm down, shawty let it go |
| Brick squad pulled up it’s like a car show |
| Bands in my pocket, flag out my cargos |
| V.I.P. |
| status so I’m walking through the back door |
| On that Remy V, I don’t want brown |
| I love the sound when your girl go down |
| Beef you better let it go |
| My youngins, they’ll open up your cantaloupe |
| Every round on me 'til the bar close |
| Worlds above haters, Chicago |
| Got a 9 on me, call me Rondo |
| Easter pink in my cup, no Nuvo |