Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Illegal, artist - Sam LachowDate of issue: 18.07.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Illegal |
| You shot me up in your dream last night |
| You wonder if in real life you woulda won that fight |
| Ya shot guns, guns, shoulda shot more guns |
| If you were wide awake would that have been a lot more fun? |
| Well I’m just rappin' 'bout the money well seein' what money brings |
| Laughin' at the funny rappers doin' funny things |
| Blah blah blah shoulda made the right choice |
| I’m gettin' head screamin' «I'm a gangster-ass white boy!» |
| And I don’t even think she likes boys |
| This sex is on fire, how the fuck is this legal? |
| I’m gettin' even higher I’m flyin' with the seagulls |
| This head is unreal (how the fuck is this legal?) |
| Look |
| I walk in any spot watch the swag leak off me |
| I’m so dope you could bag the leaves off me |
| Bag, bag the leaves, bag the leaves off me |
| I walk in any spot (how the fuck is this legal?) |
| Look |
| I know I’ve had some thoughts and dreams you prolly think you’ve had |
| But I wonder in real life if you’da took that chance |
| I need funds, funds, hundreds n' thousands |
| Fuck it I’m done scroungin' the |
| Don’t matter who you are in the end, 'cause time gets you |
| So while I’m in this life I stay cleaner than five whistles |
| Trust we on the way, we ain’t goin' any place |
| Bartender 86th, but we goin' anyways |
| Keep it wavy in the seat, that’s my weed smokin' look |
| Come on man, you’da me, it’s like clico to cooks |
| I be on, two or three, see we hit 'em like jugs |
| While my cup’s lookin' chilly zig zag’s lookin' kush |
| Look |
| I walk in any spot watch the swag leak off me |
| I’m so dope you could bag the leaves off me |
| Bag, bag the leaves, bag the leaves off me |
| I walk in any spot (how the fuck is this legal?) |
| {Verse 3: Sam Lachow] |
| I’m hoppin' on the L to Brooklyn so I can slobber on some L’s in Brooklyn |
| I’m the man out here (uh huh) |
| Where’s twenty foot gram out here |
| I got the hookups so the dojo come from California |
| Yo who the fuck brought you here? |
| Matter fact, the truth is, I’m new here |
| Shag pone swag I thought you knew this |
| They tellin' me to be more politically correct |
| But I love rap yah rap’s about smokin' and oral sex |
| Dude ya lady’s hella crazy after all |
| I took her out just for fun but without her I’m better off |
| She put her number in my phone but I forgot, never called |
| And then she found me weeks later trippin' out at Webster Hall |
| Look |
| I walk in any spot watch the swag leak off me |
| I’m so dope you could bag the leaves off me |
| Bag, bag the leaves, bag the leaves off me |
| I walk in any spot (how the fuck is this legal?) |
| Drums, drums, I beat on drums |
| I’m a giant here I come, fee, fi, fo, fum |
| I don’t wanna here a hum, better bite yo tongue |
| I’ll eat a beet, and a whole microphone, yum |
| I’m spittin' nothin' but venom I’m a head above like a center |
| I’m Ricky Bobby the winner and baby Jesus at dinner |
| You intermediate flow to hit me you gotta get lessons |
| On next, gold necklace jump to kiro calisthenics |
| I enter into a room I’m the life of it 'til I exit |
| The record hittin' the needle they bouncin' just like my checks is |
| My F-L-O-W row without the protection |
| I’m keepin' it ninety plus and then I wrecked it |
| You breastfed, baby |
| Look |
| I walk in any spot watch the swag leak off me |
| I’m so dope you could bag the leaves off me |
| Bag, bag the leaves, bag the leaves off me |
| I walk in any spot (how the fuck is this legal?) |