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Shyne - Edge lyrics
[Verse 1] Uh uh, Uh, Uh Ayo, mac 10s and fake friends Lawyers little game homicide 25 with the fucking nigga face 'em But I'm still trill, still holdin Rollin gully until I'm froze, close in a box with a bomb in fluid Veins pumpin ice First some 15 keep that king pumping right Hard white, cold cash Hold fast, fold fast, through the city so gas No ass Straight head bitch, I'm one a from the feds Fuck comma raps, same G and canna All I got in this world is my fifth dick and nana Gangsta mannerism lyrical vandalism Niggaz be burnin up their gums until the fucking hammers hit 'em Who need help? Well until then I'ma take that mac off the shelf and hold the fucking street hostage Blowing smoke out my nostril Every breath is a step to a non-time in death [Hook 2X] I wanna know where to go Need a place in my mind I can rest Cause this time is running out for my flesh Dried up, sittin' in a chair fried up [Verse 2] You know me; I don't need no introduction in this Big gun, big dick, half of a meal on the wrist Sittin in my continental thinkin' about potential connects I live in all, just pencil the best Parts of the live of a quintessential hustler When I pull a slide back Motherfuckers be hoppin' their faces don't get left open You understand? Shirt soaking, brain smoking left in the ocean floatin' Shyne Po, dough, stack, y'all Rap niggaz is trash I don't give a fuck how much records you sold Tryin' to be me Keep it real dog, you'll die to be me You wanna know how it feel, don't you? To have a murder charge, took gun to the American Music Awards And live life against stars Doing 170 screaming "FUCK THE WORLD" (gangsta get outta the car) [Hook 2X] [Verse 3] Where the fuck them niggaz at? We gonna handle this beef Turn your mic off bitch; see me in the street Fuck peace 'til I'm rest in the dried up flesh is finish I don't know how to tell until I'm in the morgue Dysfunctional, highly uncomfortable paranoid Without the extra clip (bitch), try me I'll puncture you Had niggaz waking up with wings in their backs, halos in their head like "Ayo I'm dead" Can a knight fucking princess Diana type Vane wives, vane light, pen I write cold, hand of ice They said too much for the motor mind to comprehend Walk wit me, pause take a breath Things ain't just the same for gangstas Sleeping in diamond, it's fucking up the game for gangstas While charges tryin to ring a gangsta Through it all I maintain my gangsta [Hook until fade] |
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