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Traffic - The Low Spark of High Heeled Boys lyrics
featuring Cam'Ron Killa Sha RZA [Cam'Ron] Uh thug shit Killa Cam thug shit Yo yo I want my steak with a funky dame Honey claim cash like the Money Train Faces of death eatin monkey brain Chunky change call it iced out and flawless For all my niggas upstate with food inside the toilet Yo I'm like Hoffa mixed with Sinatra La costa nostra dude packed a toaster True motherfuckers y'all blew it motherfuckers Told you how we do it, stupid motherfucker I chew motherfuckers, know how I do it motherfuckers Lay your block down when I come through it motherfuckers Niggaz want murders, maybe I'll call Ladies'll fall, yo we killin babies and all I mean, one up in the cabbage, one up in the carriage Bing-bing-bing like ricochet rabbit, faggot Your mother sayin look at they 'matics, damn look at they habits Oh, look at they karats [Killa Sha] Paint the picture, 2-5-2 killa scripture Verse six: Chapter five, touch more lives Try to survive in this frontline with mines Deep, but I'm in the minds of foul men Too much gin, too much hash, too much cash Kinda hard to let this good shit pass So I dabble in it, heads eat and killa sin it Ya bitch niggaz wanna get in it but can't fit it Many is callin, but few is chosin And them faggot ass niggaz thats holdin, ain't goin Sha Luminatti, uh-huh, god-body Hail, rain, and earthquakes when I break A warning to the fakes (true that) Play the dark and brought to the light Lift up your dress for spite Lyrical fight, for forty days and forty nights Automatically tight, to the blind I bring sight Ninety-nine omega, captivate through your vega Rhyme slayer, do |
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