Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Devine, artist - Sheek Louch. Date of issue: 07.11.2005
Song language: English
Devine |
| Ooh weee, lets get it poppin daddy |
| Uh, yea, lets get it poppin mommy |
| Ayo the moral of the story is |
| We all can’t be gloriest |
| Some of us still on our grind (our grind) |
| Thats why I walk wit this chrome .9 (I'm fine) |
| 'Fore who eva want to cross this line Devine |
| Ayo Sheek on the street again, they know the big man is back |
| But niggas still don’t want to get down wit the heat again |
| You see me postin on the block, see these bitches on my cock |
| Seein you jumpin out the drop, sombody light up |
| I ain’t fuckin wit you homey, you ain’t smokin, you don’t know me |
| You can eat from my dutch, I’mma fuck 'em right up |
| You can catch me all Nelly in the blue red dully |
| Half crip half blood nigga west side |
| But you can catch me in New York on stage on the block |
| Or even visitin my niggas in the cage (lets ride) |
| Its somethin to do, lackin the fool, packin a .2, ok nigga |
| Me and my niggas on our New York shit |
| Me and my niggas on our West Coast shit |
| Me and my niggas on our down South shit |
| Yes, Midwest, Bay area |
| Lets go, uh |
| When niggas see me in the street they be like there go double O again |
| He got the .357 set and he 'bout to let it go again |
| Switchin up this flow again, grindin up for that dough again |
| Your mans in that set trip, I’m 'bout to put a hole in him |
| Hands up plus lip, let me see ya’ll niggas bang |
| Hit a nigga in his head make 'em come about this chain |
| Homey I’m the best at this shit |
| I’m the don wit a black mark about to tag up on this shit |
| That niggas perpin ya’ll ain’t seen no bricks |
| We movin grindin on a new city gettin jacked suckin ain’t no dick |
| And you can show if it ain’t no purp-b |
| Our buns be color of pookey lips when they gave 'em that turkey |
| Been a long time comin, but my time is due |
| Everythin is crystal clear but the shines is blue |
| Caught away seats in the gray CL |
| Wit so many weight in the trunk |
| If you don’t chop it the brick scale, nigga! |
| Ayo me and my young boy |
| Remind me of my self in early days sort of like a young hoy |
| Now I’m puffin in the Phantom out in St. Croix |
| Blue water two bitches and peep a toy |
| But don’t play it sweet, the heat is in the cooler |
| And the cooler got no bait for lunch meat |
| You done fuck see the morgue |
| You ain’t fuckin wit me dawg |
| Ayo Hood you ready, bark at your fawg |
| Ayo I’m 'bout coastal G |
| But I’m 'bout to east coast back where it 'pose to be |
| D-Block got the streets in a zip lock |
| And we bustin off 'em hammers |
| Like we don’t give a fuck 'bout hip-hop |
| So who wanna get popped, just give me the word |
| It won’t be occasion when I hit his ass wit this bird |
| Leave his ass on the curve |
| So you can put that yach on 'em |
| I’mma make this drug related and leave some crack on 'em |