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Mr. Shadow - From the Youngest to the Oldest lyrics
61 to the 9 the city of mine Got motherfuckers running like at Santana High So don't try using my name for your fame Mad cuz a youngster got a lock on the game What a shame you ain't the gangster that you claim to be If you're really balling why the fuck you wanna hate on me Low Pro what? Homey I'm a gangster Amici Park Krazy motherfucker, quick to bank you And shank you with the ice pick Cuz this fat motherfucker claims to have a whole album off my old shit It's cold shit, but homey fuck it I'ma let this poor fat fuck make a ducket So don't get it twisted thinking that he owns something Shadow Presents The Mayhem Clique cost me nothing All I wanted was a little bit of weed money That flip a key money, then you wanna talk funny [Chorus x2] From the youngest to the oldest Hottest to the coldest From the rugged to the boldest I'm the sickest and you know this I make a motherfucker fold when I throw this shit at you You say that you're this, you say you got that Then homey cock your strap and show me where your heart at Tricky spark that blunt and let these motherfuckers know We can have a gun fight or we could go toe to toe No furies pumped in this young Southsider San Diego rider, shit's getting tighter Fool step aside, it's between me and him Anybody wanna trip then it's us against them That's the way men handle it, can you hang I put in work with real soldiers, faggot you like to phone bang You know the name, Mr. Shadow all up in this Been nosey trick you need to mind your own business I got your name at the top of the list For being a bitch and running your lips like it ain't shit You get hit in the ribs with the club Fool you ain't a G, in the streets you get no love [Chorus x2] Already let the world know about the acting, yapping Now I gotta talk about your rapping You say that you're Worldwide, Coast to Coast Fool I'm still the same and requested the most You serve one day and post bail, scared of a cell Cuz you know that they'll get you for the stories you tell How you're riding in them low-lows, hanging out with cholos Banging puffing dodo when really you're rolling solo Talk a lot of shit but you never do nothing Bitch you gotta have a loaded clip to start dumping Got your heart pumping, skipping a beat You diabetic motherfucker you ain't fucking with me I stay heated, weeded, not guilty's what I pleaded You call the comp and album cuz my name is what you needed So be it, but fool you need to quit Stop talking out your neck on the phone woofing shit [Chorus x2] |
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