Buddha Monk f/ C.C.F. Division

Hold Up Lyrics

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Buddha Monk f/ C.C.F. Division - Hold Up lyrics

[ShaCronz] Call my the black Bronson, Cronz smoke hemp like Jack Johnson When it beat my peep's heat clap constant In the streets name spread like my reputation I bet you hatin, die for respect, seconds you wasted Godfather mc's to be a robber to mc's Nowadays coward snitches so I don't bother mc's Surrounded by drama parada bitches Got a Cron Dada, blanks out, spit by Lamas with this production Got hoes suckin dick I flow reluctant if you got dough then show somethin Fouls don't let him hold somethin, quick Keep it funky, like sweaty draws, roll with steady force Once the heat in his face, barely pause Ready for war, especially on tour May sure enemies that threat will be no more I peer act of Emmy, chicks'll sex a female whore Live television, fuck the D's, we flee no more [Chorus: Free Murda] You think you got it sewn up Nigga don't get your hopes up Everybody wanna blow up Shit slowed up, since the cold Christ rose up Stressin niggas, smoke up, get the dough up (Nigga, it's a hold up) [Free Murda] It's either freedom or death, kill or be killed Either you murder or get murdered Any sweet streets, that's real I roll thorough with snake eyes in the 'ville That'll eat your food with no problem It leave a bad taste in your mouth Like No Frills, foes that squeal, get fold in their grill Yo, stick the dolja, holdin in crills Sad the way they growin up so they blaimin their fathers Niggas that was your hand, that was blazin revolvers You scared of Brooklyn? Like that old baseball team You a Brooklyn Dodger, Crooklyn dumb-dumb launcher Don Juan, you don't bother Never ice grill, ice on my chain give me chills Long pants, no creases, with a low shirt I know you heard about my Cali No dirt, fools untook your tally Fools done took a wiz Now you got no work, couldn't never bend me A nigga like me when no skirt Have you Die Hard like Bruce Willis What I mean is you die slow from the hands of true killers Know these two villains, Lil' Free and Cron Gotti Don like John Gotti, with a chrome long shotty [Chorus 2x] [ShaCronz] It's a hold up, who want it? I'm nothin nice, duke I slice you High dude, roll dice and heist schools, in night schools turn pigs to ground hogs, my hound dogs surround the streets Rob with four-pound and easy, loungin speach Real niggas put it down in the east, control towns with heat Hard to be found, I creap, FT, the B'ville, the privacy We kill MC's, grab the keys, sail away I could drive ease, blowin tropic trees, monopoly rise Probably nothin stoppin me from coppin three-fives I thought I told y'all, when I first came out Game clout, Fort Greene soldier, crush your dame out Ya didn't believe the rumor, until ya herse came out They found your head with your brain out, dead, lookin drained out You got burnt, caught spittin my name out Caught you in the same house, bubblin Gain stealth in this game, I got to let my pain out to torch you, smoke herb to get this strain out We lost troops, egoist, freeze, hold risk Cronz need no bitch, at the Cee-Lo split I keep your chips all, Free toast it [Free Murda] Always squeeze and bust your gun, Lil' Free trust no one Chain down to my dick, that's frozen Bust city nigga, fuck what he holdin Leave your brain roastin, like dollars you foldin U.K., I wet your ass up like coldcuts I roll with don niggas that rock kicks like sho nuff ENT's will get your ass tore up If hollow tips don't make you slow up Got dum-dum's that blow up Now you swoll up, already know where the snitch at Fool you wanna chit-chat, fuck around and get clapped Felt your eyes pitch black, from all the gun buttin Keep my guns bustin, high one touchin yo' ass from big guns that's rushin This little nigga have your son runnin This gangsta killa, bang me, my dogs'll bang the killa Shots ring, blood stain on your Range killa Triple low for show though, gangsta, run in my jeans Pack a auto-shotty, pull my leg to run in my jeans Like diarrhea, squeezin with tire heaters That jam up, don't get your man amped up, throw shots Up in this land truck until I catch other writers Your dogs bark, but don't bite us In the dark it's hard to fight us You see the spark, what's the dawn fire? You marked for death, this Don Juan's an all liarBuddha Monk f/ C.C.F. Division - Hold Up - http://motolyrics.com/buddha-monk-f-ccf-division/hold-up-lyrics.html

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