Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song We Are, artist - Sean TDate of issue: 24.10.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
We Are |
| Yeah… |
| Yeah man we them niggas everybody talkin 'bout |
| Hey yo, yo |
| Whether it’s, chips or whips or bricks of 'caine |
| I still shine at the end when y’all forced to rain |
| Changed the game, three shots parade ya Range |
| Hit the passenger, driver, old man on a cane |
| I’m a shell in the chamber, waitin to pop |
| Like Stoudamire on the court I’m used to movin the rock |
| Cruise in the drop, 740, snub in the box |
| My attitude shifty, never callin the cops |
| A Green Bay jersey, out on Bennett puffin hershey |
| D’s on the route tryin to catch a nigga dirty |
| Respect the flow, better yet respect the dough |
| He get respect like rich and po' |
| Fuck a 9 to 5, I’d rather wake up and spit bars |
| And your wife, known to make my dick hard |
| Cartier lenses, 22's on my Benz’s |
| When shit break out, y’all hit the fences |
| We stay bent, laid back behind tint, puffin sticks, spliff up |
| We are the hustlers everyone’s talkin about |
| Big belt, flossy shades, paint on glaze, nigga |
| We are the hustlers everyone’s talkin about |
| Unidentifiable straps makin heat clap sicker |
| We are the hustlers everyone’s talkin about |
| We about reliable scratch and gettin this math quicker |
| We are the hustlers everyone’s talkin about |
| Shit I might as well be duels, cause they call me the Flowmaster |
| I keep ridin tracks like a natural disaster |
| You know I’m 'bout macra I’ll clap ya, a pirate like |
| Far from a Hollywood actor |
| A factor, focused on paper and cars |
| I move like crowds, stay minglin with the stars |
| I’m in the 6500 Benz truck with some broads |
| Dimes in every state I strike through be on me so hard |
| You know them Bentley bound, down, wild Hummer chicks |
| That wanna take the car, cover up your tight summer shit |
| The game’s heavy, man that’s way off the charts |
| Heavier than killer whales at animal theme parks |
| You niggas is SweeTarts, my family is street sharks |
| We keep the ER busy tryin to revive the treat marks |
| Shit, we merk niggas like Eddie, get ready |
| We got heat that set car alarms off like M-80's |
| The Game on some regular rhymin, fuck all this new shit |
| When they gon' let real niggas get on that cruise ship |
| Black Sox and Dallas Squad got, chains and cars |
| Get, brains from stars after those awards |
| Miyagi’s or doubles, don’t think I won’t buy out the bar |
| That’s little shit, Mercedes dealership, buy out the cars |
| Sticker in the window, let 'em know that it’s ours |
| Sittin on shit you ain’t never seen like we got it from Mars |
| Game like Laker Will, snatch a bitch off your arm |
| She see Game covered in ice like I lived through a snowstorm |
| Plus I blow digits like my first name was |
| Pay off security at clubs, get our guns admitted |
| Outside the club in the parkin lot, four dot six |
| Not know it’s stocked? |
| Nigga it’s the one we keep the bricks in |
| Hard black on black leather’s what we keep the chicks in |
| And bitches stay sniffin like smellin dubs is a sixth sense |