Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song More Or Less, artist - Shyne. Album song godfather buried alive, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2003
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: The Island Def Jam
Song language: English
More Or Less |
Gyeah, It’s like New York’s been soft |
Ever since my nigga Shyne been sittin' in prison |
Yeah |
Shyne |
Check it, sick things, sick rings, this shit is sickening |
Sick chains sick aim, 5th bang 5th frame |
Bail money lawyers actin' funny when I come through |
Hit 'em with a bundle on the humble |
Couple notes, seen Boy George with a Rolls |
Shit, I want one too |
What the fuck I’m gon' do |
But get it if it’s there to be gotten 'til I’m dried and rotten |
And I’m rockin' sideways muthafucka crime pays |
I need it, I’ll get it, I got it, I’ll chop it, I’ll double the profit |
And bubble the pockets, I’m living to die |
Niggas talk fly 'til I walk by and pop somethin' |
Muthafuckas forgot somethin', I’m not frontin' |
This ain’t rap, music this ain’t that |
You fuck around I’ll have you sleepin' where the saints at |
Sincerely yours Shyne muthafuckin' Po |
Bitch get yo' bags hit the muthafuckin' do' |
May the angels walk with me, more or less |
Big things, big rims nigga, more or less |
Fuckin' big stars in big cars, more or less |
I can say I seen it all and done it all, more or less |
A G is a G, a ki is a ki, a snitch is a fish (as in kilo) |
With no fins that can’t swim when I dump him in the river |
Charcoal gray R, 12 cylinders bulletproof sentences |
Trial day tentative |
I sound like who? |
ya’ll sound like trash |
Get off my dick and pass my cash |
They don’t do it cause I rap about it |
I rap about it cause they do it |
My music’s the conduit to a ticket, I live it |
Bitch nigga, I cook it and pitch it |
Wipe the prints up off the shit and ditch it, uh |
Hip-Hop ain’t responsible for violence in America |
America’s responsible for violence America |
Back to the flow nose full of blow |
Rolls full of hoes, leave a nigga clothes full of holes |
The schools didn’t want me so the drug dealers taught me |
Simple math, step on it twice and bring it back |
Get 4 times what you paid, divide the labor costs |
And still come away with enough to play |
And I see the same shit in niggas younger than me |
Runnin' the streets lookin for somethin' to eat |
Ole boy betta get down better run for cover |
When I spit rounds ah you in some shit now |
Get found slit down to the white meat |
I’m from Brooklyn, Vietnam nigga, I like beef |
But being a bird in the street, double plight |
Livin' a troubled life, father was a jerk |
Moms had to work, papi had the works |
So I did what any real nigga would do |
Got in front the stove, now I got this shit sold |
Fuck you punk niggas wit' yo' punk cash |
Let the pump blast, put yo punk ass in the trunk fast |
The fuck y’all thought |
I bury niggas in walls, I’mma trill muthafucka after all |
Point blank shootin niggas point blank all the way to the bank |
Rip yo face off then I take off |
The difference between me and them, you won’t be seein' them |
No more, nigga, secrets of war |