Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Love You So, artist - St. Lunatics
Date of issue: 04.06.2001
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Love You So |
You know I loved you right |
I never, I never knew girl, you see |
You know the pain right, you can feel my pain right? |
Uh, to the gateway, now check it out, yo |
Ooh, I loved you so |
But why I loved you, I’ll never know |
Ooh, the pain you put me through |
You know you’ve killed, now I lust for you |
(Cardan) |
Now since I’ve came in the game, money and fame, I love it |
But whoever thought I’d wake up one mornin with no budget |
It’s Cardi the golden kid with that older shit |
I live, learn, learn to live, the older I get |
And I remember Thursdays, hungry Thursdays |
'Bout sixteen, seventee, um, Murphy age |
But this rap game I love it, it’s like I’m married to it |
I proposed on Clue?, she said I’d be happy to do it |
Gave her a kiss, mmmwwhha, she gave me fifty G’s |
Silly Cardi I spent it, now Cardi on his knees |
Now I’m livin reality, a Biggie Smalls theme |
Askin for one more chance to show her what I really mean |
She said, you done seen a lotta things baby bro' |
Even best friends turned and take out videos |
I got with the 'tics, EI, still no deal |
'Til Sugar said «chill baby, everything is Fo' Reel» |
(Ali — talking through chorus) |
Yeah, loved y’all punk ass nigga, showed y’all love |
Never know that shit |
How the fuck you gon' drop a group, and the got the number one shit on the |
Radio? |
Dumb ass nigga, look at us now, Fo' Reel nigga, Fo' Reel |
(Kyjuan) |
Nineteen-ninety-six! |
(hurry up, sign right here), let’s sign these papers |
So we can get these papers and give these hoes the vapors |
Double-dumb entertainment dropped «Gimme What You Got» |
Off top, 'tics hot, even sent you a shot (Double-dumb nine sevennnnnnnn!) |
Didn’t want Nelly on it, said his verse didn’t fit |
Some ol' seperatin shit, ten percent ass bitch |
Whole town love us, no one is above us |
Treated you, no talent, knowin niggas like brothas |
No street team, no promotion |
Just woof tickets, raw fuckin, no lotion |
One year later you decide to drop an EP |
At the same time drop us, that confuse me |
So like a bastard child, we on our own |
Put out and left alone, y’all won’t answer the phone |
It took a little time, but we got it ourself |
Five million records later, now y’all askin for wealth |
(One, two, three, four, five), nigga please |
(Murphy Lee — talking during chorus) |
You know what I’m sayin, life is crazy, you know what I’m sayin |
You got choices in life |
But bro' when you make 'em, you gotta make 'em and make 'em right |
And if you ain’t makin 'em right it’s just crazy |
You ain’t got nobody else to blame, nobody but yourself |
You know what I’m sayin, mad truth to that |
(Murphy Lee) |
Let me pretend that I’m a lawyer and explain the situation |
Facin three-to-one five across state, humiliation |
St. Louis set it off, phone calls was long distance |
(Ay yo, it’s four birdies in Houston), c’mon, send some one to get 'em |
Who would do it for a grand? |
Eighteen, only thing on our mind was that killer money |
From Missouri to the T-E-X, A-S |
Two cats strapped it tight, right up under her chest |
One-way trip on Southwest but she didn’t make it that far |
Metal detectors went bizarre, one-way trip to the car |
Your honor, she got a baby that’ll drive my granny crazy |
A long distance lawyer that keep on tellin us «maybe» |
And we all raise her baby, takin curr (care) of her daily |
This law shit is crazy, never cease to amaze me |
It’s different from the eighties, ninety-five to lately |
They givin out time like dogs givin out rabies |
(Free City) |